Infinity Undone
by KayTeeBeth
Summary: Never before had the universe been so... WRONG. A strange series of events leads to the Doctor's survival of the End of Time and unleshes the biggest threat the universe has ever seen. The Doctor must form an unlikely alliance in order to save the day before the universe collapses. Lives will be lost, but how many survive is up to the Doctor as he faces his toughest challenge yet.
1. Deus Ex Machina

**On the Story: **This story began as an excuse for me to write some Doctor and Master whumpage, but it blossomed into something more. Now I have a whole series planned, and this story is the prequel to the whole thing. This is where it all begins. Rated T for language and violence in later chappies. It's a bit Timey-Wimey and low on the romantic side, but if that seems like your thing, I encourage you to read on. Enjoy!

**On the Chapter: **Apologies in advance for the big, long, End of Time retread. I felt it needed to be written, both to pad the story and because I like writing about what the Doctor goes through during big, emotional scenes. This chapter's sort of like a prologue, setting the scene. More to come soon!

**Disclaimer:** So this is an important disclaimer for me as a University student, where plagiarism is _kind of_ a big deal. I _do not own_ Doctor Who, and I _did not write_ End of Time. The dialogue in this chapter is taken word for word from a scene in the End of Time, which was written by Russell T. Davies. Not me. I'm not taking credit for it. Just the little bits in between, which I did write. Basically, if you recognize it, I don't own it.

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><p><strong>Prologue- Deus Ex Machina<strong>

The universe is a complicated, ugly, messy, beautiful, confusing place that doesn't always make a whole lot of sense, especially where the Doctor is concerned. Have you ever had a memory that you know you shouldn't have because it never happened, but you can remember it happening anyway? That is because Time is in flux, and the universe is constantly changing around us.

Let's say you had this poodle named Puddles when you were a child. You grew up with this dog, you loved it, you cherished it, your heart shattered into a billion microscopic little pieces the day it died. Then you wake up one morning and you realize that you never had this poodle. Puddles never existed. Your mother is allergic to dogs, so you couldn't have had one growing up, which you remember because you threw a right fit when mom said no after hours of begging. You know that you've never had a pet, and yet you have this inexplicable sadness every time you see a poodle on the streets. Chances are, something changed the course of history that led up to your purchase of this poodle.

Chances are even greater that I know exactly what caused this change in your timestream, and exactly how much it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

Hello, I'm the Narrator. Just the Narrator. Like "the Doctor, just the Doctor," only I'm omniscient. Not omnipotent, alas for I did not, do not, and never will cause any of the events that I am here to relay to you. That would be the Writer's job. I simply see them all, which gives me quite the headache at times. I can see all alternate versions of the universe's Timelines, though only the Timelines relevant to this universe. I couldn't tell you about alternate universes, for which I am thoroughly grateful. It is my humble task to share with you some of the possibilities surrounding the ever-changing Timestream.

Approximately 99% of the fluxy nature of Time is caused by the Doctor, either directly or indirectly. It is important to note that there is a 1% margin of error in this calculation, and any and all changes to the Timestream not caused by the Doctor are caused by some extreme fluke that even I hardly see coming.

There is also a pretty good chance I'm making these statistics up. I often lie, but you have no choice but to believe me.

The tale I am tasked with telling you today is one in which the universe becomes _wrong_. The universe changes all the time and most of the time the effects are confusing but overall fairly harmless. When substantial changes are made to the Timestream, the universe becomes _wrong_ and very, very bad things happen. This story does revolve around our dear Doctor, and though he caused this one indirectly, it is one of those rare occasions that I was caught by surprise.

As with so much that happens surrounding the Doctor, this story doesn't make a whole lot of sense, as such. Be prepared to ask "Why?" or "How?" and not receive a satisfactory answer. I will do my best to provide the closest answer, or perhaps even make something up that probably makes more sense than the truth anyway, but understand that this is the nature of the universe. Though I always see _what_ happens, I do not necessarily understand _why_ it happens. I am all-seeing, not all-knowing, and I am completely aware that this does not qualify me to be properly _omniscient_ as such, but I really do not care. The point being that however little sense this story makes, it will give you some idea of how confusing my life is, how the Doctor's very existence affects all of causality, and just how important that non-existent poodle you once owned really isn't. And, if nothing else, it should at the very least be a somewhat entertaining way to kill a bit of time you could be spending doing something much more important.

Our tale begins, as all good stories ought to, with a _Deus ex machina_...

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><p>The Doctor had always been something of the Ultimate Survivor. He was very excellent at using his wits to get out of situations in which he would otherwise be killed and he was quite skilled at talking his way out of his death. Sure, there had been some mishaps here and there, and he should have been dead at least nine times over, but here he was, alive and well and still fighting. He was the only one to make it out of the Time War the first time around, and even now he had managed to survive his greatest enemy and the Time War a second time. He was still alive, and it was incredible. The Doctor, the Ultimate Survivor, had escaped his fate.<p>

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

Or not.

His hearts sunk as he realized what that knocking meant. In all honesty, he had forgotten about Wilf. He hadn't meant to, but in all the excitement, that little old man had completely slipped his mind, and now he was knocking.

_ Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

That was the worst sound in the universe. That soft rapping of knuckles on glass was far more terrifying to the Doctor than a Dalek cry of "EXTERMINATE," far more saddening than the sound a unicorn makes as it perishes, and far more nauseating than Sontaran poetry (there was a very, _very_ good reason they were warriors and not linguists). There was something so inevitable in the subdued nature of the knocks, something that suggested the Doctor should have known all along it would end this way. The universe kept bringing these two men together, and it was for precisely this reason.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

The universe had signed up Wilfred Mott to be the Doctor's unwilling executioner.

He supposed it wasn't Wilf's fault, not _really_. In a way it was the Doctor's fault. It had been said in the past that his danger was in the effect he had on people, causing them to want to be like him. He did his darnedest to save everyone, and that's really all Wilf had been doing. He had only wanted to save that poor chap trapped in that glass box, and he respected Wilf for that, he really did. After all, he had no way of knowing that somebody was going to die at the hands of that wretched thing no matter what.

Cold dread clenched around his stomach as the Doctor pushed himself off his hands and sat up to face Wilf. He was sitting on his knees in a sea of shattered glass, battered and bruised, and his physical form had taken great abuse, but he didn't feel any of that. He was completely numb to any of that physical pain, overwhelmed by dread for the inevitable.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

Wilf gave a small, tentative wave. "They gone then?" As far as he knew, the worst of it was over. Just another day for the Doctor, saving the planet and all of reality from sure destruction. Then they could sit down for a cup of tea and recover. How wrong he would soon find himself to be. "Yeah, good-o. If you could, uh, let me out?"

"Yeah."

The word was heavy. There was so much more to the situation than Wilf realized, but the Doctor couldn't bring himself to express it quite yet, so he put all the weight of what was to come in that single word.

"This thing seems to be making a bit of a noise." Wilf sounded a bit worried about the noise, but he was still convinced that good old reliable Doctor would get him out because he didn't know what that noise meant. The Doctor did. The noise meant bad things. The noise meant 'It's either you or me, old man.'

"The Master," the Doctor said as he got to his feet, noting how strange that name tasted on his tongue now, "left the nuclear bolt running. It's gone into overload."

"And that's bad, is it?"

Yes.

"No. 'Cause all the excess radiation gets vented inside there." Inside that glass box, where you were never meant to be, old man. Or perhaps where you were always meant to be... "Vinvocci glass. Contains it." His voice was trembling now. The weight of the situation was being heaped onto his words, and he was dragging it out too long. If he put off the reality of what was about to happen any longer, his words would shatter under the load. "All 500,000 rads, about to flood that thing."

"Oh," Wilf laughed nervously. It was getting harder to tell whether the old man understood what was about to happen or not, but the Doctor suspected that he was beginning to get some idea. "Well you better let me out then."

If only it were that simple...

"Except it's gone critical." Machinery went critical all the time, so this was no big thing. Except that it was the biggest possible thing. "Touch one control and it floods." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. The most useful tool in the universe, the one that had gotten him out of more trouble than it should have, was now useless. "Even this would set it off."

If he hadn't known before, Wilf knew what was going to happen now, and he looked strangely OK with it. That made it so much worse. "I'm sorry," he said simply. The Doctor wasn't sure if Wilf even knew what he was apologizing for, but it wasn't helping. In fact, it was also making things worse.

"Sure." He wasn't accepting the apology, just acknowledging it. After all, what was there to apologize for?

"Just leave me." The Doctor wanted Wilf to beg to be saved, to plead with him and desperately argue for his life. He wanted the old man to cling to life as was so characteristic of humans, rather than offer himself as a sacrifice. The Doctor was going to make the sacrifice himself, there was no way around it, but the old man asking him to leave made things so much harder. The Doctor was the one clinging to that survival instinct, and he was so very tempted to just do as Wilf asked. After all, people had given their lives in his name before, so why should he deny someone so willing?

"OK, right then, I will." He had all but decided to walk away, and his voice conveyed a bitterness about the fact that he was even considering the very idea. "'Cause you had to go in there, didn't you?" His words were cracking under the weight now. "You had to go and get stuck, oh yes! 'Cause that's who you are, Wilfred. You were always this." They were shattering. "Waiting for me, all this time." The weight of the situation plummeted now, the words no longer able to support it.

"No really, just leave me," he insisted. He was so ready to die, and the Doctor was so close to letting him. "I'm an old man, I've had my time."

"Well exactly, look at you. Not remotely important!" He didn't believe that. Wilfred was so very important, but it was easier to let someone insignificant die for him. "But me?" He walked around spouting the brilliance of the human race, but really, what were they in comparison to the Last Time Lord? "I could do so much more." His tenure in this body had been relatively short and there was indeed so much he wanted to see. He could do it in his next body, yes, but his do-overs were running out and though he would never admit it, he had quite a crippling fear of death. "So much more! But this is what I get. My reward. Well it's _not fair!_" The Doctor felt quite a bit like a child throwing a temper tantrum. That's what happened when his words could not support the weight behind them.

The Doctor took a few deep breaths to steady himself and to rebuild his words. They were no longer shattered, and they were now a bit stronger. The situation wasn't quite so heavy anymore, now that it was clear what needed to be done. He couldn't hide from it any longer, and his newfound acceptance for his fate gave him a sort of weightlessness that he couldn't quite explain.

"Oh," he breathed shakily.

He looked right at Wilfred and a great understanding passed between the two old men. They had both lived a long and full life and they were both willing to die to let the other see another day. The two of them shared so many similarities, but the important difference was that one was going to make the sacrifice for the other. Wilfred thought it was going to be him. The Doctor knew otherwise. Everything had been leading up to this moment.

"Live too long."

The decision was made. It was now that Wilf had chosen to plead with the Doctor, but he was begging for the opposite of what he should have been. It didn't matter though, because there was nothing Wilfred could say that would change the Doctor's mind. There was no way he could let this man take the fall for him. The Doctor had a couple more chances, Wilfred did not. If anyone was going to be making a sacrifice today, it would be the man who had a chance of getting out of it alive, in one way or another.

"Wilfred," the Doctor said, treating the old man's name with a great respect, "it's my honour." He meant it

The Doctor stood there a moment, fingers curled around the door handle and holding eye contact with Wilfred. Time seemed to stand still and for that brief, shining moment, all of the urgency and the pain of his sacrifice were suspended. For that one brief moment, everything was right.

Immediately after, everything went horribly, horribly wrong.

The Doctor tugged on the door. The plan was to swing it open, step inside, push the button and free Wilfred Mott. He began to panic, however, when the door refused to budge. It seemed to be stuck. "No!" the Doctor cried, eyes wild. He was failing. Wilfred was going to die after all, and it all would have been for nothing. The Doctor might as well have been the one to die, he would never be able to forgive himself for letting Wilfred take the fall for him.

"Don't worry about me, Doctor," Wilfred insisted. He was ready to die for the Doctor. He understood that he had done his best, and that he would have saved him if he could. Wilfred forgave him for failing and appreciated that he had tried.

The radiation flooded the chamber...

But it wasn't the one that Wilfred occupied. Wilf's brow creased and the Doctor's eyes widened. That wasn't supposed to happen. The other chamber was sealed and the nuclear bolt overridden. Somehow the room had sealed itself off without somebody in there to push the button. It wasn't supposed to do that, and in order for something like this to happen, somebody would have had to overridden the controls.

"What?" muttered the Doctor. He was slipping back into his action mode, nearly forgetting that Wilfred was still there.

"Is that it then?" asked Wilfred. He was relieved. Neither man had to die at the hands of that infernal contraption and that was good enough for him.

The Doctor, however, was not relieved. No, he didn't die, but he should have. One of them should have. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He tried the door again, which still didn't open, and then moved onto the chamber previously occupied by Wilfred. After fiddling with a few of the controls he confirmed that the machine was indeed dead.

"It appears so," said the Doctor, "but it shouldn't be."

"Well," said Wilfred, not fully understanding the implications of this new development, "no need to look a gift horse in the mouth. What do you say we get a cup of tea and call it a day, eh?"

The Doctor just shook his head. "We can't. This shouldn't be happening, this is wrong. I can feel it... Oh." He trailed off when he took notice of an unfamiliar blonde girl who had appeared out of nowhere behind a desk. She was wearing a welding mask that was flipped up, and holding a radio in her rubber-gloved hand. "What?"

"I think it worked!" she chirped into the communication device.

What followed made the Doctor's stomach sink and his hearts leap into his throat. A reply crackled through the radio, but the content of the transmission was irrelevant. Whatever words were exchanged through the radio no longer mattered, because the Doctor recognized the second voice. It was a voice that was far too familiar and far too impossible. It was a voice he never thought he would hear again, even if he sort of always hoped he would.

"What."


	2. Gambit

**Chapter 1-Gambit**

The light engulfed them, flaring and swallowing them up as the mansion behind them faded. They were leaving the universe at large and entering a separate world, one doomed to have its legacy burn.

The Master hadn't thought this through. It seemed like a good idea to the furious, hate-filled version of himself that caused this situation, but now that reality was setting in, he was beginning to regret his decision.

It was taking some time for him to process, but the Master was slowly realizing the implications of what he had just done. First and foremost was the fact that he had just saved the Doctor. His oldest enemy, and he had saved his life. It hadn't been his main goal, but it happened and that's what mattered. Next came Rassilon and just how much he hated that man. Everything in his life, all that had happened from his initiation onward, had been caused by those wretched drums. His little spat with the Doctor paled in comparison to what he wanted to do to Rassilon. Finally, the reality of his existence and its ceasing to be was starting to hit him. The Master had made a sacrifice, gotten himself sucked into an inescapable War, and was soon going to die. The only consolation he got was that Rassilon would also die, and he was going to suffer just as much as the rest of them.

If only he should be so lucky.

That smirk on the Lord President's face seemed to suggest that he wouldn't go down without a fight. He should have known that Rassilon wouldn't just die. He would find a way to survive, and he would make the Master suffer through every instant.

"Restrain him," Rassilon ordered, and two Time Lords the Master didn't recognize grabbed his arms and held them behind his back. His captors hadn't been in the mansion, and they seemed bewildered at the High Council's sudden return. They were fairly young, and the Master almost pitied the poor, naive souls. _Almost._ They were at an age where they should still be attending the Academy, and the Master couldn't help but wonder if perishing in the Time War was the more merciful fate.

"Oh give it up already, Rassilon," said the Master, rolling his eyes. He should have been afraid of the President, but he was still so furious that the best he could manage was a sarcastic sort of calm. "We're all going to die and there's nothing you can do. You're beat."

It was amazing, really, how quickly Rassilon had regained control of the situation. Just moments before he had been on his knees as the Master blasted him with his mysterious, life-draining energy. Now he was Lording it over the weakened Master, preparing some horrible fate for him.

The Master should have been in a rage. He should have been seething and kicking and screaming. He could easily overpower the two young Time Lords restraining him, and what was the worst thing they could do to him if he escaped, anyway? Instead he just wanted to be left alone. Oh, how he was exhausted. This body was already dying and sending the Time Lords back into the War had taken a lot out of him. His final moments were going to be lived out on Gallifrey, and he wanted to just die in peace. Sure, his planet was ravaged by war, but it was still his home, and there were worse places to meet his end. He had died before, but this time he would accept it. Finally he could rest peacefully.

Vaguely he wondered if the Doctor realized what was going on. Probably not, the ignorant git. He was probably too busy rejoicing about his precious Earth's salvation to spend any time dwelling on the Master's inevitable fate. The Doctor owed him so much.

Rassilon spoke again, drawing the Master out of his hopes for a peaceful end. "My Lord Master," he said, hatred dripping off of every word. "You were to be our salvation, but ultimately you have failed. You are of no use to us anymore."

"Well, I should say," the Master agreed. "You know, I was willing and eager to help you. You could have accepted and the universe could have been ours. Instead you insulted me and look where that's got us. Now, please, can you release me and just let me die in peace?"

Perhaps he would seek out his old childhood home and die where he grew up. He wondered if the mighty House of Oakdown still stood. If it didn't, then at the very least he could die on his own land.

"Death would be far too kind a fate for a wretch such as you," Rassilon spat. "There is still enough time before the Doctor ends the War to ensure you endure ample suffering."

The Master groaned. He had been afraid of that. So much for Oakdown as his final resting place. Still, he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Oh come now, Lord President, be reasonable," he coaxed. "If anyone here deserves to suffer, it's the Doctor. Haven't I suffered enough at your hand? After all, I did live a life of madness because you needed a link to the universe outside the Time Lock. I faced countless defeats and the hands of my oldest friend and most powerful enemy because of you, is that not humiliation enough?" His strength was returning and he was beginning to seethe on the inside, but he kept his voice even and light as he tried to make Rassilon see reason.

"Alas, we do not have the Doctor at our disposal, so we shall make do with you in his absence." The Doctor owed him more and more by the second. "I can however, at the very least, grant you a single mercy."

Rassilon raised his hand and the Master's eyes widened. He had almost forgotten about that glove of power the President wore. The Gauntlet of Rassilon, it was probably called. The Gauntlet began to glow, and for a moment nothing happened. The Master furrowed his brow in confusion, but as the glove's power began to take effect, he let out a gasp.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

They were softer than they had been before.

_One... Two... Three... Four..._

They were fading.

_One..._

_ Two..._

_ Three..._

The Master held his breath...

But the fourth drumbeat never came.

A thin smile spread across Rassilon's lips. He just watched the Master. He just waited. He waited for a reaction. The Master refused to react. Partially, it was because he didn't want to give the President the satisfaction. Mostly it was because he didn't know how. He didn't know how to react to this sudden development. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about their sudden absence. They had driven him mad. All his life he had detested them. Now they were gone and he felt...

Empty.

The Lord President giveth. The Lord President taketh away.

When it became evident that the Master had nothing to say on the matter, Rassilon simply tilted his head upwards in triumph. 'That's right,' the Master thought. 'You savour your small victories. I was always just a tool. To you I mean nothing. Well, we'll just see about that.' He didn't know when, and he didn't know how, but he would make Rassilon pay. Every atrocity the Lord President had committed would be atoned for. Somehow, the Master would see it done.

"Take him to the Infinity Chamber," Rassilon ordered, and the matter was settled.

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><p>The Master was not to simply die like the rest of the Time Lords; such a luxury would not be granted to him by the Infinity Chamber. The Infinity Chamber, where he was likely expected to spend eternity, was a room that contained a Time Loop. It existed outside of Time and would therefore not be affected by the Time Lock and the rest of the planet's destruction. The plan was to lock up the Master in the Chamber and leave him to die, over and over and over, enduring great suffering forever.<p>

The Master, however, had other plans.

He was going to escape.

It wasn't much of a plan, really, but it was a start, and preferable to being imprisoned in the Infinity Chamber. Over the centuries he had schemed and plotted and planned, and he had been defeated every single time, usually by the Doctor. Conversely, the Doctor never seemed to have a plan. He just sort of made a general guideline and filled in the deatails as he went, and his success rate far outshone the Master's own. Perhaps taking a page out of the Doctor's book would do him some good. The worst thing that could happen if he only escaped the Infinity Chamber was that he would die, and that was looking like a pretty welcome option right about now.

The same two young Time Lords who had restrained him before were leading the Master through the Capitol, presumably towards his fate. They were gripping his arms just a little bit too tight, and he could feel his sweatshirt dampen from the sweat on their palms. They were nervous, and they did not want to be a part of this, the Master could tell. Perhaps he could use their reluctance to his advantage.

"So. Some Time War, hey?" he said, conversationally.

"Umm..." one of them stammered. "Yes?"

"How has life been on Gallifrey these days? It's been such a long time since I've left, I need to catch up. I mean, when I left things were getting pretty hellish, so it appears not a whole lot has changed. Still, this is better than another day at the Academy, don't you think?"

His escorts' faces paled as he spoke, and they said nothing in return. The Master continued.

"I envy the two of you, really, I do. You got out of the Academy early, you got to work with _Lord Rassilon himself_, and now you get to die all nice and normal like while I'm doomed for all eternity."

The grip loosened on one of his arms. The Master went in for the kill.

"This kind of life must be a dream for young Time Lords such as _yaaaarrrrrggghh_!"

He didn't get to finish since his speech was cut off by a searing jolt of pain in his side. The young Time Lord who stood to his right was holding a small stun device, much like a taser back on Earth. He looked a little shocked at what he had done, but he quickly donned a poker face and gripped the Master's arm once more.

"Sorry sir," he squeaked. "We're not supposed to let you talk to us."

That was just as well. It turned out the Master wasn't quite as good at talking his way out of things as the Doctor was. As for overpowering the two of them, he wasn't sure he would be able to succeed in such an endeavour in the state he was currently in. They were all but dragging him along the corridor now.

The Master had to think fast. It was only a matter of time before they reached the Infinity Chamber. All he had to do was get away from these two before they got there. After that... well he only had to avoid recapture until the Doctor used the Moment and he could finally be free. Perhaps he could hypnotize them into letting him go. He hadn't hypnotized anyone in a while...

"Halt."

His escape plans were interrupted by a female voice. The woman was hooded and her face was obscured. She reached into her robes and pulled out a gun. "Release him."

"Ma'am," one of the young Time Lords said, putting on a brave face at the sight of the weapon. "We are escorting this prisoner to the Infinity Chamber, if you don't mind."

"Yes, I understand, but there has been a change in plans."

The other boy looked skeptical. "Look, our orders came from the Lord President himself, we really can't-"

The hooded woman fired the gun and the boy fell silent. She fired the gun one more time and the other boy released the Master. He fell forward, still stunned and unable to support his own weight. The woman removed her hood and rushed forward, catching him as he fell. Slowly, she lowered him to his knees and supported his weight on her shoulder. The Master looked up and found himself facing a Time Lady he recognized, though he did not know exactly who she was. She had been there at the Naismith mansion with the High Council, eyes covered while the Time Lords took their last stand. She had defied the others and aided the Doctor, making the Master simultaneously respect and loathe her. He probably knew her from some past life, but she refused to let him know who she was, blocking off the telepathic courtesy identifier Time Lords shared.

"They're only sleeping," the woman muttered, regarding the two young Time Lords. The Master wouldn't have been bothered either way.

"Who are you?" the Master asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Hush, that is a secret for another Time," she whispered, her mouth very close to his ear. Her words were soothing and comforting, and the Master couldn't help but trust her. She had, after all, just saved his death. "Time is running out, and there is something you must do, Lord Master." He felt her press a cold, round object into his palm. A fob watch. "Word will quickly get out about your escape. You will need to hide. Find a Chameleon Arch and disguise yourself as a human. You will need to return to Earth and find the Doctor. Rassilon has greater and more devastating plans than you can imagine. He will escape this and wreak havoc upon creation, and the Doctor is the only one who can stop him. Rassilon knows this, and he will utilise every advantage he has in to stop the Doctor no matter what the cost. I cannot tell you when or where the Lord President will emerge when he breaks the Time Lock, but use the Doctor to find him. It is up to you both to save the universe."

The Master scowled. This woman, who wouldn't even tell him who she was, had the nerve to ask him to save the Doctor _again_ when all he wanted was to die on his home planet. Then again, she did mention Rassilon, and if he had the chance to make him pay, then perhaps rescuing and teaming up with the Doctor wasn't such a bad idea after all...

"But how? The War is Time Locked. Escape is impossible."

He felt the woman press another object into his other hand. "Take this. You will know what to do with it when the time comes." She paused and looked him in the eye. "No, I cannot tell you who I am, and you cannot tell the Doctor that I was the one who saved you. He would never forgive you, me, or himself if he knew that I did not escape while I had the chance. I am sorry to ask this of you, but this is a task you simply must accomplish. Good luck, Lord Master. There is more at stake here than you can possibly imagine."

* * *

><p>Let us take a moment to discuss Rassilon, Lord President of Gallifrey. Without this man, the universe would be a much different place. Rassilon the immortal, the pioneer of Time Lord society, had never regarded himself as a villain, and neither did most of the universe. In fact, some even went so far as to regard him as a hero. Without him the Time Lords would have never existed. He was the first to instill the policy of non-intervention, and had always been determined to keep the universe in some sort of balance. I quite like the guy myself; his non-intervention and balance policies kept things nice and simple for me. There was minimal fluxiness to the Timestream and things a lot more linear and a lot less wibbley-wobbley. So no, Rassilon is not evil.<p>

He does, however, possess that volatile combination of brilliance and madness.

For most of his life, the madness hadn't been quite so bad. His brilliance far surpassed his madness, but that one little spark of insanity allowed him to think outside the box and achieve all those great things he did. However everything changed during the Time War, and he developed the most dangerous ratio of brilliance to madness in existence: equal proportions of each. This led to him planning the Ultimate Sanction, which had ultimately been defeated by the Doctor.

Brilliant as the Ultimate Sanction was, it was, in fact, a product born solely from his madness. His brilliance came into play in what followed his defeat.

Rassilon knew that a plan relying on the Doctor and the Master involved a great deal of risk. Naturally, the success of the Ultimate Sanction was the preferred outcome, but Rassilon was a man who always had a backup plan – one that the rest of the High Council knew nothing about. Preserving the society he had worked so hard to create was his primary goal but should that fail, he had decided on revenge as his secondary goal. There were indeed fates worse than death, but Rassilon refused to die if only to inflict these fates on others, primarily the Doctor and the Master.

The trick was escaping the Time Lock, because doing so was nearly impossible and highly dangerous. Creating the link with the outside world through the drums and the star was perhaps a bit of a convoluted plan, but it was the safest way to proceed. There were other ways to escape, and Rassilon knew that every lock has a key – even a Time Lock.

Three keys to the Time Lock existed on Gallifrey. There were only three keys because it could be unlocked using such a key only three times; any more an the universe would lose integrity and collapse in on itself. This meant that strict precautions had to be taken with these keys. Rassilon himself had developed them, and he was the only person who knew about their existence. He had created three as an emergency protocol. All he needed was one, which he kept close by at all times. He created the other two in case he decided to take someone with him, and to maintain his own control over their use.

Gallifrey's hope was now lost. This was a fact that the Time Lords knew and accepted. None of them wanted their planet to burn and none of them wanted to die, but they all knew the horrors of the war and they all wanted it to finally end. There was so much suffering every second, and the sooner that ceased, the sooner the universe could continue to turn on its own. Certainly it would be a more dangerous place without the Time Lords' presence, but it was better than the alternative. They understood this, and they accepted their fate.

Rassilon would have too, but now that he had a mission, one that he was so single-minded in completing, not even every horror of the Time War could stop him now.

* * *

><p>When the woman had finished, the Master had regained his strength and was ready to run.<p>

He really didn't want to carry out his task. He had lived as a human before and swore to himself that never again would he stoop to the level of that mongrel little species. He also didn't want to escape the Time Lock. He owed the universe nothing, and he should just let it perish. The only reason he pressed on was Rassilon. He repeated that cursed name in his head, over and over again, as he ran. He would make the Lord President pay, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Probably it would be.

What filled him with the most trepidation about his escape, however, was the fact that he would once again have to face the Doctor. He really, _really_ didn't want to have to deal with him just yet. The Master knew the Doctor a little bit better than he cared to admit, and he knew that the Doctor's massive guilt complex would make him utterly unbearable.

The fact was that the High Council could have chosen either one of them to send the drums to. Both the Doctor and the Master had been on Earth, outside of the Time Lock, and it was purely by chance that they had been sent to him. He was positive that the Doctor understood this, and hated what they had done to the Master. The Doctor knew that it could have been him who had to live with that forced madness, and probably he thought that it should have been him. The Doctor always did like to blame himself for everything.

Now that he knew the truth about his condition, the true ramifications of what they had done were starting to sink in. What kind of life could he have led? The drums had began so long ago, almost before he could even remember. Eight years old was so very young... He wasn't sure what kind of boy he had been, or what that had ever said about who he could have become. Would he have travelled the universe as the Doctor's friend and equal? Would he have risen to power here on Gallifrey?

Would he have still gone mad and become evil?

It was difficult to imagine himself as anything other than an evil madman. That was who he had been for his entire life, a dark and malicious being. Could he have ever been any different? The Doctor always seemed to think so, and he was always determined to see him as a friend. To the Doctor they had never stopped being Theta Sigma and Koschei of the Deca at the Time Lord Academy, and there was always the chance that they could be friends once more. Could the Master really become a good man, the one the Doctor seemed to think that he was capable of becoming? Now, without the drums, he would have to face that possibility.

Just dying would be so much simpler.

The Master stopped running when he found a Chameleon Arch. A row of them hung on a wall, labelled "Chameleon Arch." Below that was another sign that read "In case of emergency." If this wasn't an emergency, he wasn't sure what was. The Master plucked an Arch off the wall, set it to "Human," and was about to use it when he froze, noticing a flaw in his plan. Even though he made a perfectly brilliant human, his mind would still be so painfully slow when he changed. How the hell was he supposed to know what to do?

He reached into his pocket and dug out the other item the woman had given to him. It was small and round and shiny, feeling cool against his palm and oddly light in his hand. "What's this supposed to be then, the Ball Bearing of Rassilon?" he muttered to himself. It was supposed to help him escape, but he had no idea how. He was still convinced that breaking free of the Time Lock was impossible.

The Master thought quickly and grabbed some parchment and a pen. Hopefully he would have enough residual awareness to realize why he was back on Earth, but just in case he would make himself a few notes that would help him remember his task.

Writing quickly, he wrote down a few key points. First, find a way off of Gallifrey. Next, find the Doctor and save him. That was his job once he arrived on Earth. Then he wrote down what to look for when searching for the Doctor. A quick description of his current appearance was included, but he also noted that he could look different. The biggest giveaway was the big, blue box. Hopefully by then he would be back to his good old, two-hearted self again, so he decided against confusing his human alter ego with anything about Rassilon and the danger he posed.

"Well, here goes nothing."

The Master placed the Arch on his head and sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself for what he knew was about to come. Sudden blinding pain erupted in every cell in his body as they changed from Time Lord to human.


	3. Whiteout

**Author's Note: **YAY, another chapter! UGH, original characters... I know. I hate reading them too. They are a little bit hard to avoid in a fandom like Doctor Who though, so do bear with me. I hope everything works here. I did my best to keep things clear, and if it's not explained here it's likely explained later. But if you feel I've missed anything, do let me know. Also the Jack in this story is not Captain Jack. Sorry. Alrighty, enjoy the latest update!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>**- Whiteout**

He was cold, so very cold. He wasn't sure if he had ever known cold like this before. All around him the world was white and the wind whipped at his skin like an icy lash. In no way was he dressed for this kind of weather, the grubby little track suit providing little protection. How was he supposed to know it was going to be this bloody _freezing_?

He couldn't remember much; who he was or where he was or how he had gotten there was a complete mystery to him. His head felt... fuzzy, and the cold was doing nothing to help his mental processes. The last thing he could remember was... being frantic and in a lot of pain. That wasn't good. There was something he needed to do though, something very important. If only he could remember what...

That wind was wicked. Another gust nearly blew him over, and he was shivering quite violently now. He found himself on his hands and knees, the wet snow soaking his legs through his sweatpants and freezing his bare hands. The world began to spin about, faster and faster and making him feel nauseous. Seeking shelter didn't occur to him, but he really hoped he wouldn't pass out.

"Good Lord!"

A new voice, distant and female, called out, her words swirling about in the violent wind. He could feel a pair of small hands grab him around the shoulders and lift him off the ground. His arm was now draped over a narrow set of shoulders and he was being supported, quite awkwardly, by a figure who was a fair bit shorter than he was.

"Come on, come on," the voice urged, still sounding oddly distant. "Move quickly now. We have to get you inside. Just stay awake please, I don't think I could support your dead weight. Keep going, keep moving..."

The girl chattered away, perhaps hoping that if she kept talking he would hold consciousness. Instead he tuned her out, focusing all of his attention on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to get to wherever she was taking him. Before he knew it, he found himself in front of a door. The girl shifted his weight a bit, fiddling with the doorknob, and at last the door swung open. The warmth hit him head on, washing over his freezing body and providing a more than welcome relief.

Finally, he forfeited his losing battle for consciousness and allowed himself to pass out just past the threshold.

* * *

><p>"I can't do it."<p>

Two figures stood outside the Lord President's chamber, frantically urging the other to knock.

"Look, I won, you lost, fair and square. We don't have a lot of time left, just do it."

They were the same two young Time Lords who had been escorting the Master to the Infinity Chamber, and they had some very bad news for Rassilon. Neither of them wanted to deliver it, because they knew what happened to the unfortunate souls who made the President unhappy. No, they didn't want to have to face that, thank you very much, even if they were going to die very soon anyway.

"I just... I can't, OK? Please can you do it? _Please_? He always liked you better than me."

It wasn't fair. How had they gotten themselves into this again? When the War had begun, they were both very near graduation from the Academy. They could remember the recruitment drive, promising them eternal glory if they signed up to help the Time Lord cause. It was such a romantic notion in those days – defeating the Daleks and saving the universe would earn you a prestigious place in History amongst great men. That what when they had expected to win. Nobody had expected it to turn out like this. The only reason these boys had made it to the end of the War was because they were helping the Council and not out fighting on the front lines. It hurt to think of their classmates who had been selected for that unforgiving job.

"Oh please, he never liked me. Look, it won't be that bad. I mean, it wasn't our fault... was it?"

The details of the Master's escape were unclear, but they had woken up and he was gone.

Perhaps they would have been better off on the front lines after all. At least then they wouldn't have to deal with Rassilon's wrath.

The Time Lords were not a particularly emotional people. They were observers and thinkers and protectors, but they were always rational. Some went so far as to call them cold. The Time War was bringing out the worst in all of them and, try as they might, even the most stoic of the Time Lords were being torn apart by the War. Families destroyed, legacies incinerated and friendships annihilated in the wake of the battles raging all around. Today it was all going to end.

Today Gallifrey would burn.

"It might interest you to know," came the voice of the President, "that I can hear every word that you are saying."

The boys looked at each other, dumbstruck. They had started out speaking in hushed tones, but the must have raised their voices as they went. Either that or the Lord President had supersonic hearing, which they wouldn't have put past him.

"What are you waiting for?" Rassilon demanded. "Enter."

Shaking a little, the two entered. The chamber was dark and dominated by a large, ornate desk, behind which sat the Lord President. He wore the traditional Presidential robes and was perched upon his throne, looking as though he was preparing for something.

"What is it you want?"

One of the boys pushed the other one forward, who gulped. "Well-" he choked, throat dry. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he tried again. "Sir, we're so, so sorry but – and I promise you, it wasn't our fault – but the prisoner has escaped. The Master is gone. We can't find him anywhere." Immediately he cowered, preparing for the worst.

What he was greeted with instead was a wry smile and dark laughter. "Excellent."

"I'm s-sorry, sir?"

"You may leave," Rassilon commanded. "Go on then, make yourselves comfortable and prepare for the end. This world is not much longer for the universe, and I have some preparations to make. Be gone!"

The two young Time Lords obliged. They were baffled by the President's reaction, but they decided it was best not to question it. Who were they to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Meanwhile Rassilon sat at his desk, a sick sort of glee rising inside him. The Master had escaped the Infinity Chamber, but he would be facing far worse at the Lord President's hand. He hoped that this would happen, predictable as the Master was. Rassilon was going to escape the Time War, run the universe on _his_ terms, and make the Doctor suffer for all he had done to destroy everything he had worked for. Having the Master there as well would be the perfect bonus.

Plan A, the Ultimate Sanction, had failed, but Plan B would not. He would unlock the Time Lock in a moment and take his place in the universe; then everything would fall neatly into place. The Master would find the Doctor and then they would both be in the same place, his pawns behaving exactly as they were meant to. Of course they wouldn't make it _too_ easy for him, sure to find a way to fight back as they had so many times before. The Master and the Doctor working together would give them a fighting chance, which made things so much more exciting for Rassilon.

The final _true_ Time Lord would take his rightful place at the top of the universe.

* * *

><p>Leah was pacing about her living room, gnawing on her fingertips since she had successfully reduced her nails to jagged little stubs. OK, so there was a strange man lying on her couch, unconscious, and she was home alone with no idea what to do with him. He had been out cold for at least twenty minutes now, and she had only just phoned up Jack to come over and figure out what to do. He was the only person she could think of to call. Mom was at work so she wouldn't do, and she always did have something to say about the boys Leah brought home. This one was about twice her age, and Mom would start lecturing before Leah even had the chance to explain why he was there.<p>

The man hadn't moved a muscle since he collapsed in her doorway. With great difficulty, Leah had dragged him to a couch in the front room and piled blanket after blanket on him. It was about ten minutes before she had even thought to check his pulse. Sure enough he was alive, but his pulse was slow and weak.

Leah herself was in a little bit of shock. She had no idea who this man was or where he had come from. He certainly wasn't from around here; anyone familiar with Alberta winters would never dare venture outside dressed like that. Maybe there was someone they could contact to take him off her hands, but with no identification she didn't know where to start. He didn't seem like he had been outside very long, so where had he come from, and how had he managed to get as far as he did dressed like that?

She almost jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. Right, she had almost forgotten that Jack was coming over. She couldn't help but wonder why he even rang the doorbell anymore. He had a spare key and even if he didn't, Lakewood Hollow was one of those towns small enough that most people didn't lock the door that often, especially when they were expecting company.

Jack was an interesting sort of fellow. He lived just down the block from Leah and the two had grown up together. They were practically brother and sister. Jack was fairly good-looking – tall and lanky with dark hair and brown eyes – and he could have any girl he wanted if it weren't for his strange obsessions. Even Leah thought they were embarrassing.

Actually, she thought he was a nutjob.

Jack was an avid follower of and firm believer in conspiracy theories. Many things – Sasquatch and the Yeti for instance – he admitted were complete hoaxes, but there were other urban legends that he insisted were real. The world had seen aliens, or at least the United Kingdom had, and Jack believed that the universe was hiding so much more from the human race than they could possibly imagine. He also spoke of a strange fellow, some sort of physician, who kept their planet safe and travelled about the universe in a little blue box.

Yeah, he was definitely crazy. Any time he brought up the subject, Leah rolled her eyes and told him so. He just rolled his eyes back and called her narrow-minded and dull. They had these arguments a lot, and most of the town wondered why the hell they didn't just shut up and kiss already.

"Oh thank God you're here," said Leah. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. He hasn't moved for twenty minutes, is that a long time? Should I call an ambulance?"

"Calm down, Leah," Jack said gently. "Where did you find him?"

"Just outside my house," she replied. "He wasn't dressed very warmly, it's a wonder he didn't freeze to death. I donno, I thought he might have been drunk or something. I know it's only noon on a Wednesday, but let's face it, in a small town right before Christmas that's not so strange. Actually, that's pretty normal any time of the year..."

"Wow, he stinks. Where do you suppose he came from?"

"He looks like one of the bums from the city," Leah mused. "Most city folk don't come 'round here though, not unless they've got family out here. He would've had to walk if he really was a hobo, and he would've frozen to death on the side of the road."

"OK, well, you're doing fine," Jack assured her. "Just relax, we'll figure this out. I'll go make us some coffee and then we can decide what do with him."

"Alright."

Jack wandered off into the kitchen and Leah returned her fingers to her mouth. She felt like an idiot. When things went wrong, she was utterly useless. It was a wonder she had done this well. Even getting him to the couch had proven to be something of an achievement. Should she have called an ambulance or sought medical help? Did he have hypothermia? How did you treat hypothermia? Was he insane? How did you treat insanity?

From the couch, the strange man stirred and Leah's eyes widened. She rushed forwards and crouched down near his head while he turned to face her. Leah hadn't really had the chance to get a good look at him before but she couldn't help but notice, now that they were face to face, that he was really quite good-looking. At least, he was handsome in sort of an old guy kind of way. At first glance the man was scruffy, his features obscured by a few days of beard growth, but she imagined he was the kind of man who dressed sharply and looked good in a suit.

Her train of thought was derailed by a soft moan from the man, which was all well and good because she was starting to wonder if she was really that desperate.

"Wh- where am I?" Leah could barely make out the words through his weak voice and his British accent. "What happened?"

"Shh, try not to talk," said Leah, fingertips gently brushing his cheek. "You were outside in the cold. You should rest. Jack's got a pot of coffee on, and we'll get you back to normal in no time."

A scowl creased the man's forehead and he blinked a few times in confusion. "Cold?" he paused and looked around, thinking for a moment and trying to remember something. "I need to..." He bolted upright, eyes wide. "Ooh, head rush... Hold on!" he exclaimed, his voice now strong and steady. "What day is it? Where are we?"

Leah spoke slowly in an effort to jog his memory. "You're safe now, don't worry. You're in Lakewood Hollow in Alberta, Canada. The date's December 23, 2009. Not the right time of year to go out dressed like that, it's nearly minus thirty! Do you know what you were doing out there?"

"Canada?" he repeated. "Earth... December 23? But that means..." He trailed off, trying to remember something again, searching for something. Suddenly, he locked eyes with Leah, looking frantic. "We need to get to London!"

Leah shook her head. "No. You need to rest"

The man grabbed her shoulders. "You don't understand. I need to be in London by Christmas Day. I..." He paused, chewing his lip as he drifted off into thought again. "Look, I don't know why, I just know that I have to be in London. We need to catch a flight right now."

"OK, calm down and slow up a little," said Leah, prying his hands off her shoulders. "We'll figure something out but you need to talk to us first and explain what's going on before we do anything."

The man let out a sigh as he slumped back against the couch, a vacant expression glazing over his face. Jack walked into the living room, carrying a tray containing cream, sugar and three cups of coffee. Leah thought she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes for just a brief moment, but he shook it off and carry on.

"Right then. Good! He's awake." Jack pulled up a stool next to where Leah was crouched and placed his tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. "So. First thing's first. How do you like your coffee?"

The man's eyes flicked toward the steaming mug. "Black. Black is fine." He took the mug, nodding in thanks, and just held it, not taking a sip.

"Next order of business would be introductions. I'm Jack, this is Leah, and you are?"

The man stared at the coffee a while as though the answer to that question was hiding in the rich brown liquid. "Harold," he finally answered. "Harold Saxon."

Leah, who still thought Tony Blair was the British Prime Minister, didn't bat an eye at the name.

Jack, who was a little bit more worldly than his sheltered compatriot, stiffened.

"Ah, that's wonderful. Do you go by Harry, or would you prefer Mr. Saxon?" asked Leah, blissfully unaware of Jack's tension. "Or is just Harold fine? I donno, I'm eighteen now, so I'm technically an adult, but when do you reach the point where you get to call other adults by their first names? I'm so used to saying Mr. or Mrs. whoever. It all seems a bit vague if you ask me."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Saxon, it really is-" said Jack before he was cut off.

"Harry's fine," the man said absently.

"Yes, right, lovely to meet you Harry. If you'll just excuse us a moment. Leah?" Jack grasped her wrist. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen a moment?"

"Jack, we really shouldn't leave him-"

"Now. It's kind of important."

Leah rolled her eyes and set down her coffee (four sugars, three creams). "Be back in a mo'" she assured her guest, and followed reluctantly behind as Jack steered her into the kitchen. "What?" she snapped impatiently as they arrived at their destination.

"Leah, that guy in the living room? He used to be the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom."


	4. Coffee and Conspiracy

**Author's Note:** First off, sorry for the delay in update. The Doc Manager was being funny and prevented me from updating on Sunday as per usual. This shouldn't affect the next update, though I might bump to Mondays. Second, thanks to all who have reviewed/faved/subscribed to the story so far. Good to know people are reading and liking what they see. I'll do my best not to disappoint, especially with the next few chapters. I'm a little but unsure of them... But anyway, do enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Three- Coffee and Conspiracy<strong>

Harry (The Master? No, Harry. He was most definitely Harry) sat on the couch, blankets draped around his shoulders, coffee mug cupped in his hands. He tried taking a sip and cringed. Normally he liked coffee, but this stuff was awful. Leah had forgotten to warn him that Jack's coffee tasted like piss, and that drinking it black was tastebud torture. No, he would not be drinking any more of that, but the warmth felt nice against his cold hands.

His surroundings were quite nice as well, all cozy and inviting. Very homey. The couch he sat on was beige and fairly well-worn, but it was comfortable nonetheless. In the corner was a Christmas tree – geniune spruce – that gave the room a pleasant aroma. The mantle of the fireplace against the far wall was decorated with various little trinkets and two stockings. It was all very festive.

Christmas...

Vague memories danced just below his consciousness and he struggled to bring them out from the depths of his mind and into the light. There was something he needed to do in London, and he needed to do it by Christmas Day, but he couldn't recall what. Why couldn't he remember? It was incredibly frustrating. Had he fallen into some awful soap opera and developed a cliche bout of amnesia? He sincerely hoped not. The worst part was that he knew it was something important. There was something so very urgent he needed to do, but he couldn't do it if he had no idea what _it_ was.

The entire situation had a sort of familiarity to it, as though he had done something like this before, or he knew what was going to happen. This Christmas... It was going to be a big one, an important one, and it involved him somehow. It involved him being in London and... saving someone? Some sort of doctor. Weren't doctors the ones who were supposed to be doing the saving? Maybe getting to London would help his memories come back. Did it work like that? He had read somewhere that certain places or people or events could help restore memories and cure amnesia. Or maybe he had just seen that on television...

* * *

><p>"What." Leah stared at Jack, eyebrows raised. He had made some pretty crazy claims before, but she was pretty sure this one took the cake. "You mean to tell me that the guy in my living room, the one I dragged in off the streets, is a politician? From England? Who used to run the country?"<p>

"Yes, well, that's not the only thing though."

"Oh, what, he's an evil alien who tried to take over the world by infiltrating parliament?" Leah scoffed. "Why would they bother? Politics is just so... blah."

"Well, yes, actually, but that's not the only thing," Jack insisted. "There's all sorts of rumours on the web about him, people claiming that he had this great big secret. And there were lots of really weird things right after he got elected. And then he _died_ and things got even weirder then."

"Wait. Hold on. Sorry, _what_?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. Jack had reached all new levels of nutjob now. "So not only is he a politician, but he's also crazy, and evil, and an alien, _and_ back from the dead?" She counted off each point on her fingers as she listed the crazy accusations. "Jack, listen to how crazy that sounds. It could just be a coincidence. There's no way that's the same guy. There's bound to be more than one Harold Saxon in the world."

"No, you don't get it, I've seen pictures. His hair's a little different, but it's the same guy."

"Look," snapped Leah, "I don't wanna hear it! I just saved his life bringing him in from the cold. He's harmless. We can ask if there's anyone to call, and then they can deal with him."

"Oh there's someone we can call alright," Jack said. "The police."

"Right, yeah, because the police are totally going to believe that we've got some evil dead guy stowed away in my living room, ready to be taken into custody."

"So you admit it's the same guy, then?" Jack retorted.

"Of course not!" Leah huffed. "I just don't think the police will believe your story if we call them. Maybe bringing you into this was a mistake. I thought you would know what to do, but I should have known you would spew your weirdness all over." She turned on her heel, ready to storm out of the kitchen.

"Wait!" Jack called. Leah froze, her back still towards him. "OK, sorry. Look, I still want to help. I just think that you should be careful. You did just bring a stranger into your house after all."

Leah sighed but said nothing. Instead she just shot him an exasperated look over her shoulder and walked into the living room. Fortunately Jack had known her long enough to recognize that meant that he could stay, but he was on thin ice. Jack followed Leah back into the living room, resigned. He needed to tread carefully if he was to have any chance at regaining control of the situation.

He supposed the man seemed nice enough, and there was a chance that this was just a huge coincidence, but Jack was always wary of coincidences. More often than not there was more at work than appeared on the surface, and he just hoped that Leah wasn't getting them into anything they couldn't handle. She could be so stupid, unreasonable and stubborn sometimes.

Leah was perched on the stool next to the couch, slipping back into nurse mode easily. "How ya holding up?"

"Alright," came the reply. "I think."

"Right, OK, well you need to rest, but you can't stay here, I'm sorry," Leah told him. If her mom caught him there, the cold would likely be the least of his worries. "Is there someone we can get a hold of? Someone we can contact to look after you?"

He knitted his brows in thought. "Yes..." he muttered.

Leah perked up. "Great! Excellent. Tell me how we can get a hold of them and we can-"

"In London," Harry interrupted.

"Oh."

"And... I'm not sure who he is."

"Oh."

Leah wilted. She didn't want the man to die, having saved him and all, but neither did she want to be responsible for him. What were you supposed to do when you found someone who didn't seem to know who or where they were, and had no identification or anyone to contact? Were there specific protocols for things like this? She supposed that she could call the authorities, any of the authorities, but she wasn't sure what would happen to him in their hands.

It was starting to look like going to England was their only option.

He was staring at her, or at least in her direction, lost in thought and seemingly searching for something. There was a strange quality in his eyes that made her uncomfortable looking at them, as though maybe there was something more to this funny little man but she couldn't quite place it. He seemed so lost and yet so urgent. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe there really was something going on with him. It was unlikely that he was some sort of evil alien madman, but there seemed to be something not quite right and not entirely there.

"Alright," she finally said. "Well, I'm not sure what to tell you. I appreciate your need to get home," she added quickly, before the man could say anything in protest, "but I'm sorry, it's just not that easy. We can't just hop a plane across the pond, especially not right before Christmas. The airports will be nuts and there's no way we can get tickets last minute like that. I can look into booking flights for after Christmas, and in the meantime you can stay with Jack." He raised his eyebrows but said nothing in protest. Leah continued. "You can't stay here, my mom would flip... We'll get you home eventually, but it's going to have to wait until after Christmas."

"That'll be too late," Harry muttered, more to himself than to the others. "No, wait!" he cried suddenly. "I can get us on a plane."

It was Leah's turn to scowl in puzzlement. Meanwhile, the man rooted through his pockets, though they weren't the pockets that Leah had seen before when she had been searching for identification. Apparently the man had hidden pockets. (Hidden pockets that were, in fact, _bigger on the inside_.)

"Aha!" he exclaimed, pulling out a thin leather wallet. He stared at it curiously, almost not entirely unsure what it was, but there was a triumph in his finding it. Savour the small victories, Leah supposed.

"That'll get us on a plane then?" she asked, apprehension growing. No, she wasn't going to England. That was that. Even if he could get them seats at such short notice, she wasn't leaving.

"Yep!" Harry leapt up off the sofa and grinned, looking more lively than he had all morning. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

><p><em>He was running. At this point he had been running for a good five minutes down the same stretch of hallway. Why on Gallifrey were the corridors of the Capitol so damned long? He knew exactly where to find the Chameleon Arches, since they would be in the same place as last time. Oh, how so very long ago that was. For him, anyway. He had no idea how long the War had raged since he had fled the last time.<em>

_ He was still torn about this decision. He did not want to spend eternity trapped in a Time Loop, but he didn't really want to escape the War and save the universe either. Perhaps he could merely escape the War and live out the rest of his days somewhere outside the Time Lock. No, that wouldn't do. If Rassilon really had plans for the universe there would be no chance at peace. His best option appeared to be running somewhere, anywhere else and just letting the War take its course. How ready to die he was..._

_ That plan posed a few problems of its own, however. He had been instructed to find a Chameleon Arch in order to hide from the Council and any other Time Lords. They would be able to find him if he remained a Time Lord himself, and the plan was to hide amongst the humans until he could find the Doctor and stop Rassilon. He supposed that he could simply not break free of the Time Lock and hide as a human until the War ended, but he absolutely refused to die in the form of a lesser species. That was just a matter of pride he simply would not compromise. However if he remained a Time Lord, they would be able to find him anywhere he hid on Gallifrey, and there was no time to find transport off of the planet. _

_ Saving the universe was his only option, and it made him sick to his stomach._

_ Something flashed in his field of vision, just briefly and out of the corner of his eye, and he skidded to a halt. There, displayed on a shelf, was a small, identity card sized slip of psychic paper. For most of his lives he had never really seen much use for such an object, but perhaps nicking some right now wouldn't be such a bad idea. The Doctor had used some back on Earth, maybe he could put some to good use when he went incognito amongst the Earth wretches. _

_ Besides, it wasn't as though the owner of the paper would be needing use of it anytime soon..._

* * *

><p>Nope. Nuh-uh. There was no way. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He refused to believe this was happening, and he believed a lot of things. This was impossible. It was simply not possible, and that was that. No arguments for it, because it wasn't happening.<p>

Except that it was, because Leah had gone completely insane.

She had popped off to the computer room and was actually looking up flight times to London. Leah was planning on taking this strange man's word over Jack's own and she was willing to drive him to the airport. This man who Jack knew wasn't who he said he was. Well, no, actually he _was _who he said he was, which was the problem in the first place. He didn't seem evil, but there was no mistaking that this man was, indeed, the mysterious Harold Saxon, and that could mean no good things.

And Leah wanted to help him.

Jack stared at the man, who was sitting back down on the couch and staring off into space. OK, so no he didn't look like some crazed madman ready to snap their necks at any second. In fact, he looked a lot more like he wasn't all there in the head, but in a sad, "needs a bit of help" sort of way rather than a scary, "we're all going to die" sort of way. Maybe there was more to the Saxon story than even the conspiracy theorists knew. There was every chance that Saxon's "death" had been a cover up by the government for him being shipped off to the loony bin. There was also every chance that Saxon was just a really good actor, and he was putting on a show.

Jack decided to test the waters. "I know who you are," he declared softly so Leah wouldn't hear him. She was out of the room, but the house wasn't particularly big and she had terrifyingly good hearing.

The Saxon fellow's eyes flickered towards Jack and he raised his eyebrows in dull surprise. "Really? Would you care to enlighten me then? It's a bit fuzzy up here." He tapped his temple.

Not really the response he had been expecting, but it could just be a front. Jack pressed on. "Look, don't play games with me. I know who you are and what you've done, you can stop pretending now. What are you up to?"

Harry sighed, the greatest, heaviest sigh Jack had ever heard. His eyes glazed over, sliding in and out of focus, and he was back to that thousand metre stare again. "I wish I could tell you. I am up to something, yes, but I'm not... It's all very vague, you see." He paused and chewed his lip. "What do you mean? What have I done? Because I don't remember much. There are details that seem to be filling in the gaps, one by one, about my childhood and my parents and my home, but the more recent things... Well. I don't know the kind of man I grew up to be. It's really rather distressing to know you need to do something, but to be unsure of whether your intentions are malicious or benign." He went quiet and his eyes widened.

Jack really didn't know how to react. This was not the same Saxon that he knew from the websites. "I'm so sorry, I wish I could help."

"Sometimes," Harry whispered, ignoring Jack, "I fear that I've done some very, very unpleasant things."

Before anything else could be said on the matter, Leah burst back into the living room. "Alright!" she cried. "I've found a flight we can catch if we leave right now and drive quickly. You're _sure_ you can get us onto this thing last minute? Because if it's a no-go, I'm leaving you at the airport and you can find your own damn way home."

Harry nodded fervently, perking up. Even if he didn't know the sort of man he was, at least he would be going home, and he would be able to easily figure things out from there. Hopefully.

"Excellent! Let's get going then."


	5. Needs

**Chapter 4- Needs**

Horns blared from behind them and a stream of swears flowed from Leah's mouth. "Sorry!" she shouted at the line of traffic she had just cut off. Her fingers were wrapped around the wheel like eight little boa constrictors and her knuckles had never been whiter. Her passenger was pressed up against the back of his seat and digging his fingers into the cushion. At this point, it was a bloody wonder she hadn't hit anyone or anything yet.

Leah hated driving in the city.

The journey from Lakewood to Edmonton had gone fairly smoothly – driving in the country was no problem for her – but once she reached the city all Hell broke loose. Jack had offered to drive, having seen Leah behind the wheel before, but she insisted he stay home and cover for her when her mother showed up. The plan was to see Harry off and then get home as quickly as she could. They had cleaned him up a little bit, and Jack had given him some essentials for the trip as well as some clean clothes to wear. They were about the same size, though the style was a bit off. She was going to just drop him off so she wouldn't have to pay for parking, but there was every chance he wouldn't be able to get on the flight and she didn't want to leave him stranded. Then they could book him something proper for a time when it wasn't so crazy.

It had taken far longer and a lot more cursing than it should have, but they finally parked and made their way into the airport.

"You still need a ticket," Leah said as they burst through the doors. "It doesn't work like in the movies. Flying is a ludicrously inconvenient affair. Then we gotta go through security and stand in line at the gate. It's a nine hour flight, leaves at 7:00, so you'll have a bit of time, but by the time you get through everything on the other end, you should be back home by early afternoon on Christmas Eve."

He smiled but said nothing. Instead, he bounced on the balls of his feet, emanating an air of impatience. Leah still wasn't sure if he would be able to get on this flight. His confidence in the matter seemed to be waning as well, and it was causing him a bit of distress.

They reached the front of the line and Leah took a shaky breath. The moment of truth. "Do you have anything open for the 7:00 to London? It's kind of an emergency..."

The woman behind the desk sighed. The entire airport was always a disaster area at this time of year, and these people were far from the only ones trying to sneak a seat at the last minute on a flight. "I'll see what I can do, but I make you no promises." It was evident that the woman's patience was on the decline. There was a moment when the only sound came from the click of the mouse and the tapping of keys. Her eyes scanned the screen and it wasn't long before one of the woman's eyebrows twitched ever so slightly towards her hairline. "Well, I've got good news and bad news. Someone's just cancelled and a seat's opened up. The bad news is that we've got other people waiting for this flight. Now, I might be able to work something out for you with the proper motivation..."

Leah had never known airline workers to be the types to take bribes, but she was less concerned about that and more concerned about paying. She had a credit card in her purse, but she preferred not to use it. It was one of those "For Emergencies Only" sort of things, even though she was eighteen and could pay for the bills herself. She was about to ask the man if he had any money on him, but he quickly dug out that small leather wallet and flashed it at the woman.

Her eyes flickered over the piece of paper, growing wider as they read. "Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't know who you were! I'll book you on that flight, right away. And how will you be paying?"

Harry looked over at Leah, who cringed and reached into her purse. She was buying an airplane ticket for a stranger. Well, it wasn't the strangest thing that had happened all day. Maybe he would pay her back? Or maybe she should start thinking about ways she would explain all of this to her mother.

"Two tickets to London, excellent," the woman said as she swiped the card.

"Wait!" Leah cried, but it was too late. Leah was going to London.

* * *

><p>Now, I may have mentioned this already, but the universe works in very strange ways. Time is in flux, but for the most part the universe likes to find ways to right itself. There is a certain order to things, and the universe kind of likes itself the way it is.<p>

Rassilon had, through the Time Lords, shaped much of causality and was largely responsible for the universe we know and love today. All of _those_ accomplishments were achieved back when his brilliance still had predominance over his madness. Rassilon had always had his own sort of plan for the universe, and grand scheme to mould all of creation to his likeness and desires. But things had changed quite a lot in those long and many years since those initial glory days; by now, the universe had plans of its own. Rassilon, whose madness had now become nearly indistinguishable from true evil, was still plotting his own version of the universe's destiny, but the universe itself realized that these plans were not entirely benevolent and decided to fight back.

The universe is so large and so infinite that not even the Time Lords understand all of its intricacies and nuances. I'll say it again, because it is so very important, the universe works in mysterious ways, and sometimes things will happen for seemingly no reason. In actuality, the things that occur for no reason most likely occur for some reason in the grand scheme of things, but because one person is so very small compared to the grand scheme of things, most simply do not recognize the greater purpose. For this reason, there is no such thing as coincidence. Everything happens to you for a reason, even if it doesn't always pertain to you and even if you don't see the outcome come to fruition in your lifetime.

Now, that is not to say that there is no such thing as free will. The universe prefers to stay out of people's heads and not take the blame for the stupid decisions people made. Full credit for stupidity was given to the organism that made the choice to be stupid in the first place. The greater workings simply manipulate consequences, not the actions themselves. So you can go ahead and keep doing whatever you wish, just don't be surprised if it doesn't quite lead to the outcome you were expecting.

There is a greater plan, I think, but I'll be damned if I know what it is. I can see everything that happens but I don't know why it happens. I told you, that's all down to the Writer. I do, however, have a few theories on the matter. I have a lot of time to think about things like that, considering I exist outside of Time itself. My personal favourite explanation, and the most likely in my opinion, is the one where all of causality only exists for the entertainment of the powers that be. Why else would things be so difficult to explain?

Our heroes' time at the airport was remarkably smooth and painless, which very rarely happens with air travel, but it was only because The Universe needed them in London by Christmas Day.

* * *

><p><em>He could still find a way out of this. He needed to find a way out of this. He was running out of time to find a way out of this.<em>

_ OK, so the universe needed saving; he wouldn't be able to achieve any sort of peace until Rassilon was stopped. Was he really the one who needed to be doing the saving though? Yes, that was perfect! All he had to do was find the Doctor, tell him what was going on, and then get the fuck out of dodge. The Doctor would deal with Rassilon and then he could go off and do whatever the hell he felt like doing. It would have been the perfect plan except for that one little fly in the ointment._

_ The Doctor._

_ Oh, that infuriating Doctor would never let him just run off like that. The Doctor would find some way to stop him, to make him help, to hold him accountable. And then, when it was all over, the Doctor would doctor him up, fix him, help him, make him better like he always insisted on doing. How was he supposed to avoid that?_

_ He supposed he could always stop Rassilon by himself. Really, it wasn't as though he depended on the Doctor and couldn't fend for himself. And oh, the satisfaction he would get from bringing down that wretched Time Lord himself, it would be so much more worth it than any time spent with the Doctor._

_ Except chances were that Rassilon would seek out the Doctor when he broke out of the Time Lock. He probably would encounter the Doctor at some point, so why not just seek him out first. The Doctor was good at foiling plans, so if they teamed up, they would be unstoppable. _

_ All those years, all those battles and face offs... There was always a part of him that hated fighting the Doctor. They had been friends once and, deep down, he wanted them to be friends again someday. He knew the Doctor shared these desires, but their interests were just far too different. Both Time Lords wished to renew their friendship on their own terms. Both wished the other would simply see the light and come around to their way of thinking. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be fighting on the same side for once, battling side by side against a common enemy. Sure, he would have to deal with what came next, but perhaps it would all be worth it just to be friends again, if only briefly._

* * *

><p>'OK,' thought Leah, trying to piece together the situation. 'OK. Alright. OK. So... On a plane. Good, right, got that bit down. On a plane to London. With a stranger. Right before Christmas. In First Class! But for nine hours. With a stranger. A British stranger. A handsome stranger. An <em>old<em> stranger. Ooh, no, that doesn't sound very good. Not so very good at all.'

She was sitting in a cushy seat on a non stop flight to London. Next to her sat Harry, occupying his own cushy seat. Couldn't she have gotten a refund on her ticket? Did she really have to go? Oh, but dealing with ticket refunds was much more of a hassle than a nine hour flight. Besides, she'd never been to London. She hadn't even been outside of Canada.

It had seemed like a very good idea at the time, and it had struck so very quickly. They paid for the tickets and Leah realized that she had her passport in her purse. She had almost forgotten that since her driver's licence had "mysteriously disappeared" after that party a few weeks ago she had been carrying her passport for ID. How convenient... Apparently it did work like in the movies. It was a whim, though, getting on this plane. She looked at the man, who had perked up considerably, and he shrugged at her. Hey, why the hell not? So they made their way through security and waited at the gate and Leah called Jack.

He had given her an earful, ready to drive down to the airport and keep her grounded if he had to, but Leah explained that haha, he couldn't, they were already past security. So he grumbled something about telling her mother, which caused Leah to freeze up. No, he couldn't do that. She begged and pleaded with him and managed to bargain a cover story out of him. He would make sure her mother never found out just where she was going, and he would find a way to pick up the car from the airport. Leah had only won because of her superior perseverance in arguments, and all he wanted in return was a couple of souvenirs. He was usually pretty easy to win over. So, hooray, she was going to London! Yes, that notion was so very thrilling.

Until she got on the plane.

Well shit. She really hadn't thought this through. For starters she had no luggage except her purse. She barely had any money and she had nowhere to stay. She would also be missing Christmas. She never missed Christmas. Every year Leah and her mother had their own little celebration. It was tradition, and this year she would be in London. There was also the fact that she was doing this for a stranger. She was going to London with a man she had met just a few hours ago and knew nothing about.

The funny thing was, though, that he didn't feel too much like a stranger. Now, Leah wasn't a big believer in destiny – that was more Jack's shtick than her own – but she did, every so often, get this feeling like maybe she was exactly where she needed to be. It felt like maybe she was supposed to be on this plane to London with this man she didn't know.

That wasn't to say she wasn't uncomfortable. No, this Harry guy didn't feel like a stranger, but it was still weird to be sitting on a plane next to a man she didn't know.

"So," she offered awkwardly, both making conversation and attempting to work out a course of action for when they landed. "Umm, yeah, I shouldn't be here. I've got nowhere to stay. Or any luggage. Are you going to just run off and do whatever you need when we get there? Because, and don't let me keep you or anything, but I'm kind of lost as to what I'll be doing when we land."

Harry gave her a funny look. "You're coming with me, of course! I thought that was obvious. You saved my life, it's the least I can do to repay you."

"Well, great then. Thanks. What are we doing exactly then?"

He frowned. "I'm not sure."

"Oh."

"No, don't worry though!" he added quickly. "I'll figure it out when we get there. My memories are slowly coming back and the gaps are starting to fill. I'm really glad you came along though. I seem to have some sort of mission I need to accomplish, and I will most likely need some help."

"What, you mean from me?" Leah asked incredulously.

Harry nodded, grinning. "Well of course! You can be my... Companion."

She wrinkled her nose. "That sounds... weird."

"Oh, you'll get used to it," Harry assured her. "Now, if you don't mind too terribly, I'm going t try and get some rest. It's an overnight flight and I'm absolute rubbish when I'm tired. Goodnight!"

He turned away from her and was out like a light. Leah, who could never sleep on planes, just sat there, more confused now than she had been before. Companion? That was an odd choice of word. He was an odd sort of fellow, she decided, and hoped that wouldn't pose too much of a problem. What sort of mission were they going on? This whole thing kept getting stranger and stranger, and she had to wonder what was wrong with her that she kept going along with it?

Wow he had fallen asleep fast. He hadn't closed his eyes five minutes ago and already he was snoring. It actually took a decent amount of skills to fall asleep that quickly on an airplane. They had only been flying for about an hour now. An hour of awkward attempts at conversation.

Somehow she trusted him. At least, she trusted that he knew what he was doing, even if he kept insisting that he didn't. It was a very difficult feeling to explain. Leah was, if nothing else, a perfect judge of character, and she had some interesting notions about this Harry Saxon. There was evidently more to him than he was revealing, or was even capable of revealing. He had, for now, good intentions and some semblance of a plan. However, she got the feeling that he was not a man she should mess with. It gave her chills.

Maybe... maybe she should just not think about it and watch a movie instead.

* * *

><p>Jack was fuming. He paced about Leah's living room, trying to figure out what he was going to tell her mom, who was due home any minute now. "Hey, Mrs. H. Good day at work? Listen, your daughter ran off with this guy she dragged in off the streets. He's Britain's mysterious former Prime Minister and he's also experiencing memory loss. They're on a plane to London together! What's that? You're going to kill her? Ooh, goody, can I help?"<p>

She could be such afucking _idiot_ sometimes. Leah had always been a little bit impulsive, but this was just too much. Jack officially couldn't believe her.

When his phone had rang, he was expecting her to tell him that she would be a little bit late because she was caught in traffic, and to stall mom a few minutes longer. When she explained that she was going to London, he flipped. Jack had hear the phrase "flying off the handle" before, but he had never really known what it meant until now. She was getting on a plane. With a stranger. A stranger who he had said was dangerous and warned her to be careful around. He should have known how well she wouldn't listen, but this still came as a surprise. Of all the stupid things Leah had ever done, she had never managed anything this stupid.

And yet...

She had insisted that this man could, in no way, be who Jack claimed him to be. She insisted that she knew what she was doing and that she would be extra careful. Leah was an adult now, and not to worry, she would be back by Boxing Day. She knew that this was not a man to be trifled with, however sweet he seemed, and that she could handle herself; she didn't need Jack there to protect her.

Perhaps she was right. After all, there was no way the man who had recovered in their living room could be as evil as the internet claimed him to be. Besides, the internet liked to sensationalize things and blow them out of proportion. Still, he couldn't help but be worried.

Eventually he decided that Leah could, in fact, handle herself, and maybe he should worry a little bit more about what he was going to say to her mother.


	6. Searching

**Author's Note: **OK guys, thanks again for reviews and subscribing. We're getting to the good stuff over the next few weeks, so do stay tuned! I hope you like it so far, and I hope I continue not to disappoint. If you've taken the time to read this far, I thank you. I would greatly appreciate it if you took another minute or so to let me know what you think! Otherwise, enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5- Searching<strong>

The Chameleon Arch is a funny piece of technology developed by the Time Lords which provides an excellent disguise whenever one is needed. It actually alters the biological makeup of a Gallifreyan and their cells register as those of another species because they are the cells of another species. The Time Lord becomes undetectable, unless the person searching happens across a certain fob watch. However, perception filters generally prevent this predicament.

The technology does have its drawbacks though. Even though it is biologically sound and generally harmless, it hurts like hell. Some Time Lords describe it as setting fire to each of the trillions of individual cells and blazing the inferno hotter than the twin suns. For those who do not routinely set fire to themselves, it is said to be comparable to driving rusty spikes into your eyes, except over your whole body. Or, the most graphic description of them all, it is like sitting through all seven hundred and thirty seven hours of the popular twenty-fifth century soap opera _Don't Short Out My Circuits_. Twice.

Some other issues with the Chameleon Arch lie in the personality of the transformed Time Lord. Because the transformation is so precise, memory loss occurs and the disguised Gallifreyan becomes a different person entirely. Certainly this can help with the disguise, so long as nobody looking for you knew what you looked like beforehand. Some awareness remains and everything about the disguise is present in the template, albeit in different proportions. However it can be rather disconcerting for the hidden Time Lord, since all memories from the time hidden are retained and the memories of another person can be uncomfortable things to have floating around your consciousness.

The memory loss is usually accounted for by the Arch. It can usually tell some information about the place the Time Lord is hiding by doing a rudimentary environment scan and determining any needed history for the fictional person the Time Lord has become. The Doctor hid in 1913 and the Arch gave him a backstory fitting that disguise. Likewise the Master's hiding spot at the end of the universe filled in any gaps in "his life" up until that point.

When the Master used the Chameleon Arch for the second time, before escaping the Time Lock, there were several things wrong. First was the fact that the Arch he had chosen was not in top working condition and in fact it was a wonder it had transformed him at all. Second was the fact that he was using it within a Time Lock. This interfered with the background information the Master should have had when he hid, and in fact he ended up with more residual awareness than usual.

As a result, his time as a human was, well, let's call it confusing. Had he found a fully functioning Arch, "Harold Saxon's" memories would have been filled when he escaped the Time Lock. Had he used the malfunctioning Arch on Earth, he still would have been provided proper memories. However, the combination of less than ideal circumstances caused his memories to be spotty, consisting of an odd mish-mash of Time Lord memories and false history as a human.

To the casual observer, _id est_ our dear Miss Leah, this manifested as a simple, yet harmless, case of amnesia. It was possible to lose memories after an accident, she had heard, and she thought the man she rescued to be eccentric and a bit odd, but generally harmless. She was both very, very right and very, very wrong in this regard. On the one hand, the man she had found back home was indeed confused, disoriented and eccentric, but mostly harmless. The man he had been before and would become, however, was quite different. The man behind the man, or Time Lord behind the man was a little bit more than eccentric and far from harmless. Unfortunately for Leah Harrison, the greater scheme of things needed her to be working with an unstable man.

Now, contrary to what most people back home chose to believe, Leah wasn't stupid. She did stupid things and said stupid things, but she was a perceptive girl who could handle herself well under pressure. She could pick up on things easily and she was a fast learner, she just most of the time didn't know what to do with her skills so she did, to use the modern vernacular, dumb shit. On her own, she made spectacularly stupid and impulsive decisions, but under the right guidance, the girl could be brilliant. It was for this reason that the universe had selected her, inasmuch that the universe could tangible "select" anyone for this task. It wouldn't be easy, and Leah would find the very outer limits of her selective brilliance being stretched. Causality was taking a great risk, relying on the untested and unlikely partnership of Leah and the Master, and hoping they would succeed.

* * *

><p>Her hand was shaking. Her hand had never shaken before. Not like this, anyway. She had a lot of coffee in her. There was a lot of caffeine coursing through her veins. So much caffeine. More caffeine than red blood cells, she imagined. Is that how it worked? Oh, she didn't care. She had to pee. Again. She had never peed this many times over such a short period of time before in her life. She had never drank this much coffee before in her life.<p>

Leah hadn't slept a wink for the entire night. Earlier in the flight she had decided to give it a go, but every time she thought she had gotten comfortable, the plane would experience some turbulence or other such disturbance and wake her right up. Her racing mind wouldn't rest either, and she had found herself tormented by her thoughts for the duration of the night.

Beside her, Harry slept undisturbed. She shot him a jealous glare. How come he got to rest?

For much of the flight she found herself inadvertently staring at him. Every time she caught herself, she blushed for being such a creep, but she wasn't staring at him for creepy reasons, even if it looked that way. No, there was something about this man she couldn't put her finger on. There was something more to him, but neither of them seemed truly capable of determining what.

It was something in his eyes. Even though he couldn't recall his conscious memories, his eyes spoke of a man far more fascinating than the one she saw before her. He seemed so very... old. And not just middle aged man old, not even grandfather old, but so much older. Even now as he slept, he seemed far older than his forty-odd year old body indicated.

His eyes spoke of even more than that, though. There was something dark and mad brimming just below the surface, but it was so very fascinating that Leah couldn't help but trust him. The very idea of this man was mesmerising and-

She was staring again.

Right. Pee. Her bladder was bulging uncomfortably and she ducked into the tiny airplane bathroom once more. So, no more coffee then. They would be landing soon. She was uneasy as it was about this supposed "adventure" they were going on, she didn't need to make it worse by popping into the loo every five minutes.

* * *

><p>Harold Saxon slept a strange and restless sleep. He did not toss or turn, nor did he display any signs of distress, but he had dreams, horrible dreams, that tormented him for the duration of the flight. He dreamed of things that were happening now, things to come, and things he had done.<p>

Other than himself, he dreamed of two men, both very strange and very hated by himself, but in different ways. One of them he hated because he was too good to be true. This man who saved everyone at the expense of Dream Harry's ambitions had once been his friend and was now his sworn enemy. This man had stopped him so many times, and done so in some truly horrific clothing, the pinstripe suit one of his more tasteful ensembles. This man, who both opposed him and so longed to be his ally, absolutely disgusted Dream Harry. However he found himself able to endure this man for the sake of keeping away the other one.

This other man, the very image of grandeur, looked down his nose at Dream Harry. This man considered Harry a lesser man unworthy of even a sidelong glance. This man wanted to cause Harry and the other man harm. He wanted power and order in the universe under his control. This man wanted Harry and the other man to suffer like nobody had ever suffered before, and he had the ability to make it happen.

But even this man was nothing compared to Dream Harry.

In the waking world, Harold Saxon did not know the kind of man he really was. He did not know who he was or where he had come from or why he had been there, but he had some suspicions and he really hoped that Dream Harry was not an indication that his suspicions were accurate. Dream Harry scared him.

This Harry was a man so filled with hate and resentment for the universe around him that there was nothing below the surface. Oh, the strange man in the pinstripe suit believed there was something there, but anything there ever was had been consumed, devoured by the drumbeat. There was nothing but emptiness.

Harold was unsure what scared him the most about Dream Harry. The plots of the past had their share of terror and he had done some truly horrific things to people. It had all been driven along by the drums of war, pushing him forward until there was nothing left to do but lash out. But at least then he had a purpose. The drums were gone, stolen from him by the sinister man, and now a vast, heavy emptiness had overwhelmed him and taken the place of that maddening rhythm. He was free and he hated it. All he wanted to do was die.

Harry wanted, desperately, not to be that man.

* * *

><p>The plane landed just before noon London time and just before 5:00 A.M. Lakewood Hollow time. Leah had officially stayed up all night, even though she didn't feel like it. She was jittery as all hell though. As soon as she left the plane Leah dialled Jack's number, not even considering time changes or international calling charges. She was in London now, she didn't have to think!<p>

"Hello?" Jack's groggy voice croaked over the phone.

"Hello!" Leah chirped.

"Why the hell are you calling me at this ungodly hour?" he groaned in response to her infuriatingly chipper attitude.

"I just wanted to let you know that we've just landed. I've got a few errands to run, but I'll be back in a couple of days. Don't worry, I'll get you a keychain."

Jack grunted.

"Also," Leah chattered on, "I wanted to say thanks again for covering for me. Have I mentioned yet that I love you and I think you're a star? Because I do, really. You're fabulous, doll! Anyways, Merry Christmas, have a great day!"

"Wait!" Jack called as Leah snapped her phone shut, blissfully unaware of the stream of curses Jack was uttering back across the Atlantic. He had only just figured out why she was calling when she had hung up. Leah had too much coffee in her to carry out a long conversation. It hadn't even sunk in yet that she was in London at Christmas with a stranger and no luggage. She hadn't even noticed how smoothly their exit from the plane had gone, and how very strange that was. She didn't care; she was far too giddy.

"So what now?" Leah asked as they strolled out of Heathrow. The sun was shining and Leah found her winter jacket to be just a little bit too warm for this kind of weather. She couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed over the lack of rain though, if only so she could laugh at their definition of a cold and miserable winter day. Their cold was the same as her unseasonably warm.

Harry's brow creased. "I'm not entirely certain."

Leah's face fell ever so slightly, but she did her best not to get discouraged. "Oh. Well, erm, why don't we catch a taxi and go from there. We should find somewhere to rest for the night."

Harry grinned. "Excellent idea! I knew bringing you was the right thing to do."

"It wasn't your idea to bring me," she pointed out.

"Shh," he said, bringing a finger to his lip. "Don't spoil it, I can pretend like I know what I'm doing, can't I?"

"Fair enough," Leah chuckled. "Any idea where we're going?"

"Actually," he muttered. "I might know somewhere we can go."

Leah brightened a bit. So he did have a little bit of an idea what was going on, that was a good sign. They hailed a cab and Harry gave the driver and address. The driver gave them a funny look at the request, but said nothing. Leah had no idea what the address had meant and neither, it seemed, did Harry, but the cabbie seemed to think they were nuts to want to go there.

When he pulled up, they could see why.

Leah paid, thanked the man, and the taxi pulled away, leaving them standing in some sort of wasteland. It was vast and desolate and dusty, not at all what Leah pictured when she thought "London," and it evoked a feeling of hopelessness.

"We came here... why?" Leah finally asked. Maybe there was a cheap motel somewhere near here – who was she to judge? - but it wasn't looking hopeful.

"I don't... Oh." Harry's eyes lit up with recognition then grew wide with horror. "Oh. Oh no, oh no no no. Oh no oh no oh no. I shouldn't have brought you here. I should not have brought you here, this was a mistake. This is a bad idea. OK, turning back now, going home. This isn't good."

Leah didn't share his horror about this place. Sure, it was unpleasant, but it really wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. Instead she was exasperated that he was suggesting going home. She was a nine hour flight away from home. "Look, it can't be that bad," she said. "We'll just go find a place to stay and then we can do some sightseeing. You said you needed to be here for Christmas Day, and we've still got a little bit of time for you to remember what for. We'll figure it out, but we've come this far and we're not turning back now. Whaddaya say?"

Harry considered this for a moment. "Alright," he conceded.

He was still uneasy though. This place had, in fact, sparked a bit of a memory and though it didn't make a lot of sense to him right at that moment he knew this was something very not good. He wanted to say something, but decided now was not the best time. Still, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty that he had gotten the girl involved.

The pair walked a bit, deciding against another cab, and eventually found a clean looking and cheap looking hotel to stay at. They were lucky enough to get a room, though it wasn't a very large or nice room, but at least they each got their own bed. Leah had exactly no plans to share a bed with that man and would have slept on the floor if she had to. As much as she had done for him so far, there was a line and that she had no interest in crossing.

They spent the rest of the days wandering the city and seeing the sights. Harry believed that he was just making the girl's trip worthwhile, while Leah hoped that the man would see something to spark his memory. The day came to an early end when Leah almost fell asleep on the underground, and they caught the bus back to the hotel. The caffeine was out of her system and she was running on empty. They could carry on tomorrow. Christmas Day was the big one, after all.

That night, Leah slept soundly in the hotel bed, dreaming that her mother wasn't going to be furious with her for leaving home on Christmas and that she hadn't done anything too crazy. Harry, on the other hand, hardly slept a wink. He didn't need to. He couldn't. More and more memories were coming back to him, and he had a very bad feeling about tomorrow. Something big was going to happen and he wasn't going to like it. Leah wouldn't like it either, and he was regretting bringing her along more and more. This was a mistake...

He wanted desperately to just be Harold Saxon – a normal London man with a normal London life – but that was beginning to look more and more like a hopeless dream. The more he learned about himself, the sicker it made him feel. When he had regained consciousness back in Lakewood, he had wanted nothing more than to know who he was. Slowly he was finding this out, and he found himself wishing he could be anyone but who he really was.

* * *

><p><em>His eyes flew open. His head was pounding like... well, not like a drum. Maybe like a jackhammer, if one was so inclined to describe his headache with a simile. His head hurt, at any rate. OK, so he had two legs, two arms, two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth and a head still attached to his body. Excellent. Still alive. Still... Human. Next up came the tricky bit: figuring out where the hell he was.<em>

_ There was a crumpled up piece of paper in his pocket with writing on it. His writing. OK, that was weird. No, wait, maybe it wasn't so weird, considering he was just remembering that he couldn't __remember... anything about his life up until that point. Alright, don't panic. He had a sheet of paper with his writing on it. Maybe this was a clue? Or it could just be his grocery list. Well, that could help him too, couldn't it? Somehow?_

OK you human_, the note read, a string of derogatory adjectives crossed out in front of the word human. _You have a very important job to do now, so pay attention and don't screw it up. I mean it, _do not screw it up_! It's not much and it should be simple enough for even you to handle, but it is so important that you could not even begin to comprehend its significance. This task requires you to be on Earth, so your first task is to get to Earth.

_Get back to Earth? How on Earth was he not on Earth? What year was this again? Had the humans colonized other planets yet? He wasn't sure, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He had no way of getting back to Earth anyway._

Use the silver sphere_, the note continued. _It may not take you right to Earth, but it will take you somewhere, anywhere closer to it than where you are right now.

_ He reached into his other pocket and, sure enough, there was a small, silver, metallic sphere. It seemed to crackle in his hand, energy dancing across the surface. OK, so how did this get him to Earth, or somewhere thereabouts? He read on._

Now, you only need to be on Earth because that is the most likely place for you to find the man you need to find. He may not be there, but it's the best shot you got. Besides, you're human and humans live on Earth. This man is called the Doctor. He's tall and thin with brown hair and a hideous fashion sense. However, he might look a little bit different. So keep an eye out for a blue police box to show up anywhere you wouldn't expect to find one. That means he's close by. If he's on Earth, chances are he's in London in the twenty-first century. If you're lucky the sphere will bring you there, though I'm not sure how likely that possibility is.

You need to rescue this man at any costs. He needs to be saved from the horrible things to come. Once you find him, he'll know what to do and then I'll take it from there. Good luck, human.

_The note only served to confuse him. It was written in his own handwriting – at least he thought it was his own – but he seemed to be addressing himself as though he was a different person. Still, he must have been the one to write it, which meant he had to do what it said. After all, he trusted himself for the most part. _

_ That was easier said than though. How was he supposed to save this man if he didn't land in the twenty-first century? How was he supposed to get there in the first place? He was supposed to use this ball but how? What could it possibly do? He examined it, holding the sphere right up to his eye. It didn't appear to be out of the ordinary, but he could sense there was something more to it. Running his fingers over it, he discovered the smallest of circular grooves. It was tiny, smaller than a pinhead, but it was there and quite clearly the activation mechanism._

_ He pressed it._

_ The sphere exploded. Or rather, the energy contained within the sphere exploded. There was no noise, no light, just a localized disturbance in the temporal field, originating at the place where the sphere had been. The energy within the sphere – a very rare and potent type of energy known of by only a few Time Lords – enveloped the man who had pressed that insignificant button. The energy burst forth, rupturing the Time Lock in one tiny area in space for one fraction of a second and transported the man who had pushed the button off of the doomed Gallifrey and onto the doomed Earth._


	7. Seventy Percent Too Weird

**Chapter Six- Seventy Percent Too Weird**

"So we're breaking into somebody's house then?"

The morning had come far too soon for Leah's tastes. Just as she was beginning to catch up on her sleep, she had been jolted awake. Her eyes had flown open for no discernible reason at 8:00 in the morning and she knew that she wasn't getting back to sleep.

In those first few groggy minutes she had forgotten that she wasn't at home, and the sight of the hotel room around her caught Leah by surprise. When the gravity of the situation finally sunk in, she groaned and rolled back over, wanting to just fall asleep and avoid the day. She was in London helping a man who needed to be here for Christmas Day. She didn't know who he was or why he needed to be here, but she was there with him anyway, and it wasn't seeming like such a good idea anymore.

Leah had always been one of those people who was kind to strangers, but it was never out of some sort of moral obligation. She went out of her way to do things for people partly because it was the right thing to do, but mostly because she was easily bored; helping other people was a better way to keep occupied than the other things people from her town did for fun. There was a small part of her, an embarrassing little part she never spoke of, that longed for adventure and mystery. She scoffed at Jack's talk of aliens and conspiracies, but she had always secretly hoped that he was right and that they would one day go on adventures together. She maintained her skepticism because she dreamed of some sort of Scully and Mulder dynamic. Television had taught her that helping random people led to adventures. No, it wasn't the smartest or most logical things, but there was always a chance that it would lead to something fascinating.

Well, this time it had, and it was scaring her to death.

The first problem with this adventure was that she wasn't with Jack. He had stayed home because she hadn't planned on travelling anywhere, but she somehow ended up on some sort of mission with a stranger. The second problem was that adventures meant doing illegal things, and though she wasn't perhaps the poster child for good behaviour, she did like to think of herself as a law-abiding citizen.

"Not just anyone's house," she continued, trying to sort out the day's itinerary, "but some fancy rich guy's mansion? I don't know what you usually do when you travel, but I know that when I go to other places I try not to get tangled up in the foreign justice system." Nevermind that she'd never left Canada before, but getting tossed into a London prison cell was not on the top of her list of "Things to Do in Another Country."

"Would you relax?" Harry had been a little bit snippier with her today than he had been yesterday. "We won't get caught, and even if we do, I'll make sure nothing comes of it." If only either of them knew how many foreign jails _he_ had been in.

It took a bus ride and a bit of a walk, but before too long they had arrived at their destination. Leah's eyes widened as she beheld the large house in front of her. "That is... wow. That's some mansion," she breathed.

"They say this Naismith fellow has his own personal army."

"Oh, I see, that makes me feel better." She laughed nervously.

Harry shot her a serious look. "It shouldn't."

Rolling her eyes, Leah said "Whatever. How do we get inside?"

They found a back entrance and ducked through it. For a man with such supposed high security, he was sure letting in a lot of unwanted guests today.

"OK," whispered Leah. "We're in. That's the easy part, I would imagine. What now? Because this is all on you, amnesia boy, I'm just along for the ride."

He thought for a moment before he said "I'm not certain. We need to be here, but I'm not sure for what. To be honest, I'm just going by my instinct."

"Well that's just excellent!"

"It's really not," he said, shooting her another look. "Come on then, this way."

If Leah rolled her eyes one more time that day, they would roll right out of their sockets. She had always thought the Brits were sarcasm experts, but this guy was driving her up the wall with how literally he took everything she said. It wasn't as though her sarcasm was subtle. She decided to just chalk it up to his confusion, and he probably had more important things on his mind than interpreting her sarcasm. At least, she really hoped that was the reason.

They crept down the corridors and found themselves outside of a room. Harry had a bad feeling about this. Voices and an electric crackling noise drifted out of the room as they stood just outside.

"We can't go in there," Leah hissed.

"Just... give me a moment," Harry muttered as he cracked the door open ever so slightly. What he saw made his stomach sink and his head spin. _CRASH_. He remembered everything. Well, not everything, just the stuff about today, but nevertheless memories flooded into his mind and the realization of what was to come struck him like a physical blow. He couldn't say that he understood it all, but he suddenly knew exactly what needed to be done.

"Leah," he whispered sharply as he grabbed the girl by her shoulders and pulled her away from the doorway. "Do you trust me?"

Her brow crinkled. "Umm, I donno. Why? What did you see in the room?"

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

"OK! Yes, I do." Leah's eyes widened in alarm. "What was in that room?"

Harry chewed his lip, trying to find the best way to describe what was going on. "Look, it's complicated, and things are about to get a whole lot more complicated. I need you to trust me because I know what's coming next and I really don't think you're going to like it."

"How the hell am I supposed to trust someone who claims to know what's coming next? That sounds mental."

She raised a good point, he realized, but there was a part of his brain that kept pushing him onward. "Look, I don't know how to explain it, but I've been here before. I've done this already. This is the reason I needed to get to London. I still don't know how any of this is happening, but I do know that there is a man that we need to save. He can help us. He can help me. He's the only one who can."

Leah considered this. How had they gone from sightseeing to madness like this so fast? It had practically given her whiplash. "Alright. Say I trust you. What would I need to-"

That was good enough for him. He didn't wait for her to finish, and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a little side room just down the hall from the one he had peeked into. The room was small and dark, so very insignificant compared to the grandeur of the rest of the mansion. The minimalistic decor included a wall of television screens flashing security footage at the room, a black office chair in the corner and in the centre of the room... _yes_. He didn't know what it was, but he knew what it did and he knew that they needed it.

It was a box. The box was not from Earth, nor was it Vinvocci technology. It was from a small planet called Shii, which no longer existed. It was rather large, roughly the size of a spaceship's escape pod, probably because it was a spaceship's escape pod which could make exactly one shift through time and space in the case of an extreme emergency. Because the box had already made its shift, it was now nothing more than a box. The surface shimmered and appeared to be opaque, but only from the outside. The walls were made of a one way glass material, and from the inside it appeared as though the walls weren't even there. Inside, nestled in the corner, there was a simple control panel which was now defunct.

Joshua Naismith, who was something of a collector of strange and alien items, had acquired this item on a happy accident when it had crashed into his backyard one night a few years back. The box had no occupants, which meant they had abandoned it, which meant that it was his. There was no real use for it, but it fascinated Abigail and that was a good enough reason for him to keep it. Perhaps he thought it would make a good bomb shelter or some such nonsense...

Harry, of course, knew none of this, but he did know that the box would provide a handy barrier when _it_ happened, and it would keep the two of them safe.

"Come on," he urged, pulling Leah toward the box, but she resisted.

Leah's eyes had landed on the screens, and they were fixed on one screen in particular.

There he was, the Master, being restrained in his straight jacket after fixing the so-called Immortality Gate. He was surrounded by them all, the guards and the Naismiths, and _they_ all assumed that things were still going their way. How cute, he remembered thinking. The precious little humans still believed that they had some control over the situation, that this was about them. The Master had known better than them. Now Harry knew better than them both, though it was still all a little bit fuzzy.

"That's your evil twin, then?" Leah said dryly.

"I told you it was complicated," he replied. "I also said I'd already been here. Well..."

"What the hell is going on?"

"Oh it gets better, trust me," he assured her. "Now please, get into the box, or else bringing you here would have been a waste of both of our time."

Leah obliged, albeit reluctantly. "Explain," she demanded once they were inside.

Harry sighed. "I told you, it gets better, and I'll explain it when it does. To the best of my abilities, anyway. Better to get it all out of the way at once. And trust me, when it happens, you'll know."

Leah eyed him suspiciously. This was getting weirder and weirder, and more uncomfortable by the second. She longed to be back in Alberta, celebrating Christmas with her mom and comparing gifts with Jack. She wanted to be snarking with him about his impossible theories, and convincing her mother that the new year would bring a new start to Leah's life. Instead she was crammed inside a box while Jack's science fiction, conspiracy theorist wet dream played out around her.

She did her best to make herself feel better about the situation by reminding herself that this was still better than her mother's infamous "Christmas Roast."

"Here it comes," Harry muttered, eyes glued to the screen.

Leah followed his gaze and watched the impossible events unfold. There was another man in the room now, tall and thin and shouty. He seemed determined to stop whatever was going on here, but judging by the glint in the Screen-Harry's eyes, it was far too late for that. Leah found herself wondering why, if he had known what was going to happen, they hadn't gone and stopped it already. There was probably some complicated reason for it, and she realized that it didn't really matter anyways since it was too late now to do anything about it. She still wasn't sure _what_, exactly, was happening that needed to be stopped...

Oh.

Her eyes widened and her stomach clenched. Something wasn't right. Something was wrong with everybody. Well, almost everybody. Screen-Harry and shouty man were fine, as was the man who stood in the glass box, but everybody else... They had seized up and began to sort of vibrate. They were changing. It was impossible. Humans didn't do this. They didn't just suddenly transform into someone else, and they especially didn't all transform into the same person.

"What the fuck," Leah breathed as six billion Harrys erupted into maniacal laughter. "Who are you?" she asked the version inside the box with her. Horror washed over her, growing from a single seed in the pit of her stomach. She backed into the wall and put as much distance as possible between her and Harry. "No, nevermind, don't tell me. Just get away from me. This is too weird... I thought I would be having a nice normal little surprise trip to London, maybe help you find your family, and instead I get this. I wanna go home... Back to my boring old small town. I thought I wanted adventure, but I don't. Nothing exciting ever happens in Canada, and I never realized what a blessing that was."

"Would you shut up!" Harry snapped. Leah glared at him, but remained silent. He continued. "Remember what I said about trusting me? It still applies."

"Why should I?" Leah demanded. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because you can either trust me, or you can take your chances with one of the six billion other versions out there."

She considered this for a moment. "Alright, I suppose bitching about it's not gonna get me anywhere. You got a plan? No, hold on, explain first."

"OK," he agreed, "but the quick version's going to have to suffice, since I don't know all the details myself. That version of me out there... that's not, well, _me_. I mean, it was, at one point, but somehow he's a completely different man than I am right now. He's... not very nice. And a little bit crazy. But don't worry, because he's the least of our problems. Everyone will go back to normal and something even worse comes through. But don't worry, because everything works out because of that other man. The Doctor, he's called. Except he needs saving, because he's going to die when all of this finishes. You see that glass box out there? The radiation inside that thing will kill him. We need to stop that from happening."

"This is too weird," Leah said. She felt numb. Empty. "It's about 70% too weird. This is like one of those things Jack keeps saying will happen one day. Oh God, Jack... and Mom. They're... _Oh God_." She didn't want to say it. "The worst thing about this?" She laughed nervously, trying to divert her thoughts from the sheer horror of the situation. "Jack was right."

"I knew a Jack once," said Harry absently. He wasn't paying much attention to what the girl was saying, focusing instead on what came next.

"I imagine so, it's not an uncommon name."

"I don't think he likes me very much."

"That's not helping."

"No, I suppose it isn't," agreed Harry.

"So hang on," said Leah, who was now slightly less dumbstruck. "How come we're still ourselves. Well... I'm still myself. I guess you never stopped being yourself. Or, no, how does that work? Oh nevermind. Why didn't I change?"

"This box protected us. It's made of some alloy I knew the name of once. The other me knows what it's called. Virtually indestructible and impenetrable. We're completely safe in here."

"None of the other yous will find us?" Leah asked.

"None of the other mes know this box is here."

"Then how did you know it was here?"

"I read the Naismith fellow's book," he explained. "I knew the box was here because the book mentioned that he was something of a collector. I knew what the box was because of the memories of the other me."

"That must be awful," said Leah, "having all those memories belonging to someone else and knowing that they're yours."

"I try not to think about them too much. Now quiet," he snapped, "I'm thinking." He began to mutter under his breath "So, how do we save the Doctor..."

"You said it was about that glass box, yeah? Well, why don't we find some way to shut it down," Leah suggested.

"I said shut up- No wait! That could work." Harry considered this for a moment. He didn't know anything about the machine offhand, but he was certain he would be able to figure it out if he saw it. He was brilliant after all, and floods of strange, otherworldly knowledge seemed to be triggered by specific items or events. "The only trouble is getting to it."

"Well, you're still you," Leah pointed out, "and so's everyone else. So if you went out there, you wouldn't notice that you weren't you, because you are, in fact, you, and you would be able to slip by and not get caught by you. You could do what you needed to do, and you wouldn't think anything of it."

"What? Oh, wait, that's brilliant!" Leah smirked in self-satisfaction as Harry continued. "I can go out there and figure out how the machine works and then when the time comes we can save the Doctor!"

"Excellent! What do you need me to do?" asked Leah, eager to be saving the world.

"Stay in the box."

"Oh wow, that's a dream come true! No, seriously, I want to help."

"No, seriously," demanded Harry. "You need to stay in the box. I mean it! You can't get caught. This box is the only safe place on the planet. You can _not_ leave this box."

Leah sighed and slumped against the side of the box. It was far from ideal, what with her short attention span and restlessness, but at least she was safe. She had never really known what that word meant until now; never before had it made so much sense. Perhaps she could get some rest, sleep a little bit. "OK, fine. So, how long am I stuck in here for?"

"Not long," Harry assured her. "Everything will be over by tomorrow, so just sit tight."

"Alright. Have at 'er. Good luck."

* * *

><p>Why couldn't he just be Harold Saxon? Life would be so much easier if he could just live a normal life instead of being the alter ego of some mad man. He so desperately wanted to be the one curled up in that box, safe and waiting it out, and returning to a normal life with a normal family and normal friends and a normal job. He wanted a mortgage, dammit! Things would never be that simple though, and instead he was doing things for reasons he didn't fully understand. He had to, that much was clear, but he didn't know what was at stake. Must be something huge if he kept going like this anyway.<p>

So far things were going smoothly. There was a moment when he had made eye contact with himself, the original version of himself, and though there seemed to be a spark of recognition, nothing came of it. This was fortunate. He didn't know what it meant to be a Time Lord, but even as a human Harold Saxon realized that things could go very wrong if you interfered in your own timestream. Not that he had a lot of personal experience with that – it was not something humans did on a regular basis – so that made the whole situation that much weirder.

He had spent most of his time examining the machine's controls and he was fairly certain he had a good grasp on what needed to be done. Even as a human he was a genius, so figuring things out wasn't that hard. The tricky part came in how to carry it out without getting caught, and timing it just right.

It was going to be a two person job. He would take care of what needed to be done downstairs, she would handle the machinery in the office. Fortunately, Leah's part was not overly complicated. All she had to do was cut a few wires and reroute a few plugs, so it was something she could easily be able to handle.

Occasionally Harry would pop into the room with the box and check on the girl. Sometimes he brought her food or a book or something to do, but most of the time she was either asleep or watching the screens. He cared for her, and he felt guilty for getting her into this mess, but he did appreciate everything she had done so far. After all, it would have been embarrassing to have died out in the cold like that, and he was glad that she had saved him.

He had one last trip to make to her box, this time bringing her the supplies she would need, as well as a radio. Vague memories of what came next flashed in his mind, and he knew the time was fast approaching. They would have to be ready for it when it came. And then, when it was all over, he could go live a normal life for himself.

* * *

><p>Shouty Man was back. Spectacular entrance, bravo, ten out of ten! Leah quite liked him. He reminded her of Jack, with the tall and gangly stature, the wild brown hair and the sharp, angular features. He dressed better than Jack though.<p>

When things were happening, Leah's eyes had been glued to the screen. She was riveted by what was going on, and watching it unfold on a television screen made it seem a little less real and a little bit more like television. It made it easier to take in. There was certainly a lot of standing around, and during those parts she decided to read or otherwise occupy herself, but there had been some pretty good bits. Her favourite part was the escape. Now that was a real adventure, and Shouty Man was a real hero.

Not that she had a whole lot of time for theatrics. She had a job to do, and her turn would be coming up soon. Wait until everyone's back to normal, Harry had said. In the confusion she would go unnoticed. He had left her a list of instructions which she clutched determinedly in her rubber-gloved hand.

She was ready for this.

Everything that had happened though... It was a lot to take in. Screen-Harry was frightening and, from what she had observed, a real monster. It was hard to believe that he was the same man she had dragged in from the cold. She still wasn't sure she believed it, and thought that there must be some sort of rational explanation for all of this. She really wouldn't have believed any of this was happening if she wasn't seeing it herself. There was no denying that weird things were happening, and the man who had transformed the world certainly _looked_ like the Harold Saxon she had met back home, but had he really travelled in time? Had he actually lost his memory and been sent back to this horrible day? Leah couldn't deny that any of this was happening, but neither did she understand any of it.

Another man had arrived, heading a flock of several strangely-dressed newcomers and bringing with them, seemingly, another planet. Leah decided that she was not particularly fond of this new man, and he didn't seem to be particularly fond of anyone or anything else, surely thinking himself to be above it all.

He changed them all back and that was her cue. Moving swiftly, Leah darted out of the box and ducked into the room next door. Underneath a desk and out of the line of sight of any of the room's other occupants was the control panel she was supposed to be accessing. OK, easy enough. She unscrewed the plastic casing that was covering the wires she was supposed to be fiddling with. The machine's guts spilled before her and her eyes widened. If she was into science, this would be a dream come true to her, but instead it just looked like a bunch of cables.

OK, good thing the instructions were nice and clear. Snip the blue wire farthest on the lefthand side, connect it to the red wire beside it. Unplug the middle cord. Cut the second green wire from the bottom. And so forth. Leah made quick work of it, welding mask protecting her face from stray sparks and rubber gloves preventing electrical burns. It wasn't long before she had finished her task.

Soon after that, the gun went off.

Shouty Man had become Shooty Man, having saved the day by shooting at another machine and, somehow, sending the new, sinister man and his compatriots back to wherever they had come from. He seemed to be determined to take Shouty Man with him, but instead the other Harry stopped him. Well, that explained the time travel Leah figured, even if she didn't have much idea what had been going on.

They were almost done. Harry had some other things to finish up with downstairs, and she had one last plug to pull, but not until he gave the signal. While she waited for his voice to crackle through over the radio, Leah watched the scene before her.

Shouty Man was upset because he knew that he was about to die, and he got a little bit, well, shouty over it. Hearing the emotion in his voice pained Leah, but she felt better about it knowing that things weren't going to go the way he was expecting them to.

Just as long as Harry sent her the signal before he made his sacrifice.

"Live too long," said Shouty Man. He walked towards the glass box and Leah fidgeted behind the desk. Harry had better hurry up, or else all this would have been for nothing. If all of this had been for nothing, Leah swore she was going to murder somebody.

"_Now_!" crackled the voice through the radio and Leah pulled the plug. Just in time, and a bloody good thing too. The humming from the machine died down and everything shut off. Shouty Man seemed unnerved by this development, but Leah was far too excited about this accomplishment to notice. She leapt up and chirped excitedly into the radio. "I think it worked!"

"What?" said Shouty Man.

"Excellent! I'm on my way up. Then the Doctor can help me figure out who I am, and we can see about getting you home."

Leah wanted to protest about that last point, being too excited to even think about her boring old small town life, but she remembered that Shouty Man was still there and probably still confused about what had just happened. She couldn't blame him. It had been a very long and confusing few days.

Christmas would never be the same again.


	8. Reunion

**Author's Note: **Hello lovely fanfictioners! I just wanted to take a minute to say THANK YOU for sticking with me thus far. This chapter is the one you've all been waiting for. I hope. Yay!

Unfortunately, this brings about confession time. This story is a work in progress. Now, I'm not writing each chapter during the week before its release, I've got a decent stockpile of chapters awaiting publication. It has reached the point, however, that the time I have available to dedicate to writing this sucker is basically nil. It's the home stretch of the University semester, and during exams I won't be writing at all. That said, I do have enough written to last us up until the end of April. Then it's holidays and I can write to my heart's content. I'm also going out of town at the end of April/beginning of May, and I won't have Internet access. Publication dates will be a bit funny around then. At that point, depending on how much more I've written, the story _might_ go on a slight hiatus so I can get some more written. Stay tuned though, because this story will be completed. I promise. And, just so you all know, reviews help the process along immensely. Just sayin.

Alright, enjoy this chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven- Reunion<strong>

The Doctor blinked a couple of times but the girl was still there. So this was really happening. It shouldn't be happening though, and the Doctor could feel Timelines bending around him. This wasn't right. He blinked a few more times, as though trying to bring her into focus. To the Doctor she seemed to be fading in and out of sight, an aftereffect of the change to his timeline. She would shift into place eventually, it just took a little bit of time for the Timestream to adjust to such a sudden and blatant change to causality.

He focused his mind on her features, trying to aid the process. She was short, no more than five feet tall, and she was thin in such a way that her shoulders, elbows, hips and knees protruded at funny angles. She appeared to be in her late teens, but her body type was more typical of a female human prepubescent. Her features were narrow and sharp, and they were framed by long, shaggy, strawberry-blonde hair. Large brown eyes stared at the Doctor curiously. The girl's thin, pale lips were set in a patient line; she was waiting for him to say something. They were both waiting for her companion to arrive, but for different reasons. She knew that his arrival would push the events forward; the Doctor was hoping for his theory about the man's identity to be proven incorrect.

There we go. Everything was back in focus, even if the Timestream was still disturbed. He could work on correcting that in a moment, but for now he had to figure out what had gone wrong. "This is impossible. This is so very wrong I just..." He was at a loss for words, that was new.

"But Doctor," Wilf chimed in, "you're alive. Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, yes, of course," the Doctor said distractedly, "being alive is always a good thing... Who are you?" This question was directed at the girl.

"Leah Harrison." Her accent was not quite American and sounded funny to the Doctor's ears. He was so used to hearing something British or thereabouts.

"Right, hello, lovely to meet you, I'm sure. Under any other circumstances I'd be thrilled but as it so happens, things aren't quite what they should be right now, so I'm terribly sorry if I seem a bit rude. I have to ask you though, and this is the awkward part, but do you know who that man is on the other end of that radio?" He imagined that she wouldn't be talking to him if she didn't know who was on the other end of the transmission, but he couldn't explain why on Earth, or even _how _on Earth she could or would ever talk to... _him_.

The girl appeared to consider this for a moment. "Well, now, that's a bit of a funny and a weighty question you're asking there. Because I know who he says he is, but I don't know who he really is. This day has been so weird I'll believe just about anything at this point."

"Ah, Leah," said that familiar voice from somewhere behind him. "I see you've met the Doctor."

The Doctor whirled around and saw the man standing in the doorway, dressed like a teenager and wearing a look so innocent that if he didn't still look like Harold Saxon, the Doctor never would have guessed it was him. So the Master had come back. The Doctor had no idea how, but there he was, back from the dead. Theories swirled in his head as he tried to piece together what could possibly cause this to happen, but he was coming up blank.

"It's him!" cried Wilfred. The poor old man had been through so much today. He had come to know the Master as a monster, and seeing him again so soon came as a bit of a shock to Wilf. "He's back, Doctor."

"It's alright, Wilf," said the Doctor gently. "We'll figure out what's going on, but I think it's best we get you back home first." Wilfred was about to protest, but the Doctor interjected. "You've been brilliant through all of this, but we need to get you back to Donna. Besides, I think it's best you're not around when... well, nevermind. Come on. TARDIS. All of you." Noticing the baffled look on the girl's face, he added "Just follow me."

The Doctor couldn't help but notice the glimmer of recognition in the Master's eyes.

He led them to the spot where the TARDIS was parked. Nobody said a word on the walk over, every one of them far too confused to say anything. When they reached their destination, the Doctor ushered them inside. The girl regarded the interior with nothing more than dull surprise. The Doctor supposed she would have been more taken aback by the place if she were entering under normal circumstances, but it was odd for humans to say nothing the first time they encountered the TARDIS. He was glad that she wasn't questioning it because they really had no time for explanations, but he still couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed. The reactions were always the best part.

They landed outside of Wilf's house and the Doctor and Wilfred stood outside of the TARDIS, saying their goodbyes. There was a very good chance that this would be the last time the two men saw each other, and it saddened both of them in different ways. Wilfred was losing a hero. The Doctor was losing a great friend and his final connection to the woman who was once his best friend.

"Goodbye Wilfred. Take care of Donna for me, will you?"

The old man saluted one last time. "Oh I will sir, don't you worry. You just take care of yourself though, eh? Be careful with that Master bloke."

"I'm always careful," said the Doctor.

"Is he..." Wilf couldn't find the right words. "Is he going to try and kill you again?"

"No," the Doctor sighed. "I don't think so. At least not the way he is right now."

"And how is he-"

"Goodbye, Wilf." The Doctor gave the old man a meaningful look as he cut him off. That question would have to go unanswered.

The Doctor turned on his heel and slipped back into the TARDIS, leaving Wilfred to wonder just what that Master fellow was up to. He chewed on his lip as the TARDIS dematerialized before him. There goes the greatest man he had ever known, taking with him the most evil man he had ever known. He trusted that the Doctor could take care of himself, but he couldn't help but worry about him, just a little. There was still danger in store for the Doctor, and it stemmed from his determination to save everyone, no matter what the cost to himself.

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><p>Very few beings in this universe understand the workings of the Matrix, and none better than Rassilon. He had dwelled there once, and from within he had discovered more about the Matrix than anyone or anything could have ever imagined existed. The secrets contained within had been so numerous and so powerful that a lesser being would have shattered under the sheer volume of information. The Matrix was everything, and inside of everything Rassilon had found one thing in particular which would be his guiding star and saving grace.<p>

Within the Matrix existed an energy so raw and so powerful and so fundamental that its glory awed even the mighty Lord Rassilon. When he discovered what it was, a base instinct sparked within the Time Lord, one that he had never even known existed until that moment. This energy was the driving force of the universe, the most powerful of things that caused all of existence to move forward. Contained within the Matrix was the answer to all of the universe's great questions and secrets.

Lesser beings, even other Time Lords, would have turned and ran. They would have fled from the sheer scale of what existed before them. Not Rassilon. He felt that primal disturbance caused by the energy, but he knew that this energy could be harnessed. He knew that soon Gallifrey would go to war and soon he would have to be ready. They would call on him to save their lives, finally forsaken by their dear Doctor, and he would be ready. He would find a way to save them, but failing that he always had the energy at his disposal.

Rassilon created his Gauntlet, the one that allowed him immense power and maintained his link to the energy inside the Matrix. This Gauntlet would give him ultimate control and keep the other members of the High Council complacent. Rassilon, the universe's control freak, was going to make his stand.

Gallifrey's doom was fast approaching. It was only a matter of time before the Doctor used the Moment, and Rassilon could wait no longer. Finally, the moment which he had been waiting for so very long had arrived. After years of exile, after years of death and rebirth, after years within the Matrix, Rassilon would finally be where he belonged. The Time had come for him to take his place among the universe.

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><p>Back inside the TARDIS, the Doctor found the Master sitting in the Captain's chair in the console room, examining a fob watch. So it was exactly as he had suspected. The Doctor fiddled with a few controls and brought the TARDIS off of Earth and into a bit of neutral space, orbiting around a particular favourite dwarf star of his.<p>

"You know," muttered the human Master, "I never knew I had one of these. Then suddenly I'm compelled to reach into my pocket and lo and behold, I own a fob watch. I didn't even know people still used these things, but apparently I have one. I just wish I could say this is the strangest thing that's happened to me today."

"Do you know what that watch is?" asked the Doctor. He was wary about letting him open it inside his TARDIS, but he knew that he would have to. The Timestream was so bent out of shape by now, and opening the watch and discovering why the Master was here was his only chance at setting things right.

"It's me, isn't it? That other me, who I really am. The crazy one who took over the world." He paused a moment and grimaced. "I did that... I don't want to be him. I want to just live out my days as a normal man. Can't I just be a good person for once? Can't I just be Harold Saxon?"

The Doctor grimaced sympathetically. He had been in the same position once, but at least John Smith turned into a man who was essentially good. He couldn't imagine changing into a man he knew was a monster. "I'm sorry," whispered the Doctor, "I'm so sorry, but you can't. I really wish that it could be that simple, but I need to understand what's happening, and to do that I need to talk to him." He glanced at the watch clutched in the human's trembling fingers. "You need to open that watch."

It was with great trepidation that the human obliged the Doctor's request. In a few moments, all of this hesitance would be gone. He would be gone, and the other man would be in control. He knew the other man didn't care about him at all and soon he would be forgotten, but he was never meant to survive. His only purpose was to save the Doctor so he could save the universe. He would face his final moments with dignity.

"It's funny," the human Master mused, "but I've only been alive for a few days. I've only existed for this short period of time, and yet I feel like I've been here forever. Oh the things I could yet accomplish... I suppose it's up to him now. Try not to let him do too many horrible things, yeah?"

The Doctor nodded. It hurt to watch the fear and sadness in the human Master's eyes. That personality, those fears and those accomplishments never achieved all belonged in some small way to the Master he knew. He had seen this the last time too in the professor that he so admired, the sweet old man prepared to give his life to give the remainder of humanity some hope. It was all in there somehwere, and the Doctor knew that beneath all the madness and behind the drums hid the friend he'd had all those years ago. Somewhere in there was Koschei. One day the Doctor would find his friend and help him do great things. Until that day he would have to make do with the Master.

He opened the watch...

The Time Lord essence swirled from within the pocket watch, dancing about and restoring the Master. How good it felt to be himself once more. "Oh sweet Gallifrey that's better!" he exclaimed. "Humans are so thick! My thought processes were so painfully slow I could hardly override the buffer systems in the nuclear bolt, and I was still considered a genius compared to the rest of them! Incredible." When he had finished ranting to himself, the Master looked up. "Hello, Doctor. Shouldn't you be dead?"

"You're one to talk." The Doctor loomed over the Master, who was still sitting in the Captain's chair. He was gazing down at him warily, unsure of what this sudden reunion meant. The Master's return could mean no good thing, especially if it was warping the Timestream around them. The trouble was determining just what they were about to face, be it simply the Master, or something even greater following in his wake. "What have you done?"

"I just saved your life, you dolt," the Master answered. "I would have thought that was obvious.

"You weren't supposed to," the Doctor snapped. It was always a game with the Master, and he was not in the mood for that; now was not the time. "None of this should be happening, and I want to know why it is. What are you doing here?"

"Ooh, right down to business, are we? Won't even take the time to catch up." The Doctor shot him a look. "My we're tetchy. I'm not here to _kill_ you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then what are you-"

"Rassilon's gonna do that for me."

"What?" So it really was serious. He should have known it wouldn't end at stopping the Time Lords. In those final few days of the War, the Doctor had come to know Rassilon's nature far too well, and it should have been obvious that he would have had a backup plan.

"That's right, I'm here because of him," the Master continued. He pushed himself off the chair and walked forward so he was face to face with the Doctor. "I'm sorry if you thought I was just popping back so we could just have a quick cup of tea and then carry on with our lives, but I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that."

"But how can any of this be happening?" the Doctor asked. "The whole War is Time Locked, preventing any sort of temporal interference. You shouldn't be here, and Rassilon shouldn't be able to escape."

"You're telling me," the Master replied. "I don't really know how it worked, but this woman gave me this little metal ball and-" he faltered. He wasn't supposed to mention the woman, and though he could have meant anyone, the Master noticed a strange gleam enter the Doctor's eyes. It was a strange mixture of hope and sadness and remorse, and a range of other emotions that the Master didn't quite comprehend. It burned, shining so brightly behind his pupils, and he needed to extinguish it as soon as possible.

"Woman? Who was she?"

"I don't really know," the Master answered truthfully. "She wouldn't tell me who she was, and I don't think I knew her from before. She was the one who gave me the sphere and told me to find a Chameleon Arch. Somehow she knew what Rassilon was planning."

The Doctor's eyes gleamed even brighter as he asked "Did she mention me at all?"

He had to lie, and he was OK with that. The Master needed the Doctor's help to stop Rassilon, that much he knew, but that didn't mean he liked it. Instead he decided to take joy in the small things, like crushing a little bit of the Doctor's hope. After all, he didn't need to know all of the details in order to help him. "Of course not, why would she mention you? She only told me to escape and stop Rassilon. The thick, human version of me knew I had to do something important and decided saving you was the best idea. Now I'm not so sure..." There, that should hold him off for a little while.

The gleam dimmed a bit, but the Doctor didn't look so convinced. "Alright, fair enough, she wouldn't know if any Time Lords survived the War. There are still a couple of things I don't understand, though. Why would she tell you to find a Chameleon Arch? If you were the only one escaping, you wouldn't know to open the watch. How would you have stopped Rassilon?"

Ooh, point to the Doctor. The Master couldn't think of an explanation for that, mostly because he too was wondering why he needed to hide as a human in the first place. She had mentioned something about hiding from the Time Lords which had made sense to him at the time, panicked as he was, but it didn't seem quite so convincing anymore. "Look, I'm not sure," he snapped. "She told me it was because the Time Lords would find me or something along those lines, but she must have had some greater reason that she didn't tell me."

"Yeah, must've..." muttered the Doctor distractedly. He was thinking, running through his mind everything the Master had said, and trying to piece together what they were going to do and why. The gleam in his eyes had passed and he was now eyeing the Master.

"Oh no," said the Master, who recognized the new look in the Doctor's eyes. "Don't you go thinking that this is like old times. You and I are only working together to stop Rassilon, and then we go our separate ways."

"You know I can't let you do that," said the Doctor, shaking his head. "You're still a threat, and now that we know where they've come from, we can work to get rid of the drums, you and I."

He was righteous as always, trying to make others do what he thought was best. But he was wrong this time. The Doctor had never been more wrong. "They're gone," whispered the Master. "He took them away."

"Then let me help you," said the Doctor, taking the Master's hand. "When all of this is over, let's work together. Imagine what we can accomplish! Imagine what you can do now that you're free. Travel with me and you can be the man you were always meant to be."

They held each other's gaze, the Doctor's eyes shining, and for one infinitesimal moment the Master was almost convinced. Maybe life with the Doctor wouldn't be so bad. Maybe, just maybe, he could be someone good. Someone important. Someone the human version of himself had been. Maybe the Doctor's idealistic plans weren't so far-fetched after all, and maybe he could start again...

He jerked his hand away. "I would rather die." The Doctor looked crushed, but the Master continued. "I mean that quite literally. It's not as easy as you envision it, Doctor. All my life, for centuries, I was defined by that noise. To have it so suddenly taken away... I don't want to have to face that life. I don't want to have to face those possibilities. I would rather die than have to redefine what I've come to be at their hand. So the answer is no, Doctor. You and I will not be travelling together except for right now, and that's only because we have more important things to worry about. Besides, we may not even survive what is to come, which would quite frankly be a mercy if we don't."

The Doctor just stared at him for a moment, looking like he wanted to say more on the matter, but decided against it. As far as he was concerned, they would cross that bridge when they got there.

"That body," said the Doctor, changing the subject, "it was dying the last time I saw you. Is that energy still burning you up?"

"You know, that slipped my mind, I never thought of that." The Master scowled and considered his hands for a moment. "Nothing. Damn it. It would have really come in handy with what we're about to do."

The Doctor sighed. The Master didn't seem to care that it would kill him, he just wanted to have that power back. And maybe he was right, maybe it would help them a great deal in the fight against Rassilon, but the Doctor was glad that there was one less risk for the Master. He couldn't stand to lose him again, not when he had a chance at helping him. "Right then! Onward, let's stop wasting time. We've got a job to do." He danced around the console the way he always did, but then froze. "So how do we find Rassilon then?"

"Well I don't know, I was hoping you would have some sort of an answer," scoffed the Master. As far as he was concerned his job was done. He'd alerted the Doctor, now it was up to the other Time Lord to come up with the plan. The Doctor could do the difficult, thinking parts; the Master would handle the fun, hurting Rassilon parts.

"How the hell was I supposed to have an answer?" the Doctor shouted. "I didn't know he needed to be stopped until now, and it's not going to be easy if I don't know anything about how he escaped. Well, it's a bloody good thing I'm brilliant then. And you, don't think you're getting out of this so easily. I'm still going to need your help."

"Well of course you will," the Master drawled. "I'm going to have to be there to clean up whatever mess you make."

"Oh, you haven't changed a bit," started the Doctor, but he froze as someone coughed. Who could be coughing? The only ones in the TARDIS were the Doctor and the Master... and the girl.

Oh. Right.

The Doctor peeked around the console and found the girl on the second level on the TARDIS console room, tucked away out of sight. There she was perched, staring in the general direction of the two Time Lords with a glazed look in her eyes. She perked up when she spotted the Doctor eyeing her. "Oh, don't mind me," she chirped. "I'm quite content to just sit here while the two of you work out whatever you've got going over there. I'm not in any rush to get home or anything."


	9. Answers

**Author's Note: **Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates it! To those who don't... Happy chocolate day! Here's another chapter. Just my little gift to you guys. Hope you like it!

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight- Answers<strong>

Everything was blurring together and Leah was starting to lose track of exactly what happened and when it happened. The man, the plane, the planet and the Doctor... and somehow she had gotten swept up into the middle of all of it. She had begun to retreat into herself, letting everything just pass as it wished around her. Leah'd had enough adventure for one lifetime and she was just going to let whatever needed to happen run its course and do her best to stay out of its way.

The Doctor worked quickly, ushering them into a strange sort of place she was sure hadn't been there before. The room was large with looming, organic pillars stretching around and overhead. In the centre of the room stood a sort of console with many strange looking buttons and levers and controls, which the Doctor began to flip and press with a calculated sort of chaos. On the other side of the console stood a chair, and near the door was a ladder that led to a balcony made of metal grating. Harry took a seat on the chair, looking dazed and examining something she couldn't quite make out. Leah decided the best place for her was out of the way, so she climbed the ladder and sat cross-legged on the raised grating.

An angry buzzing in her pocket caught Leah's attention. She patted around a moment but before too long pulled out her phone, wondering how she hadn't noticed it before. The battery was very near death and there was no reception in here, but she did have about a million and twelve messages from Jack. In all of the excitement she had forgotten about him and she suddenly felt very guilty and a little bit homesick.

Leah wondered what Jack had to say. She would have to find out some other time because before she had the chance to listen to any of the messages, her phone died. As the backlight flickered off and the screen faded, she caught her reflection in the now blackened glass of her mobile, and she cringed at what she saw.

Holy shit she was dishevelled. Black smudges that used to be neat lines of makeup rimmed her eyes, giving her the look of a particularly restless raccoon. Her hair was tangled and matted and there were dark, heavy bags beneath her eyes. Seeing herself in this state only served to remind Leah that she hadn't been able to get a whole lot of sleep since the plane ride. She had managed to nap a little bit back in the mansion, but it wasn't nearly enough to offset the jet lag that was only now starting to kick in. Maybe now she could catch a couple of hours. She leaned back against the wall. She closed her eyes...

She sat bolt upright. The walls were humming. Leah hadn't noticed it before, but the entire room was emanating a gentle hum. The slight vibrations from the wall had caught her by surprise, but when she leaned back against it she felt calm. It was a comforting hum, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for its presence. It relaxed her, and perhaps it would help her sleep.

The Doctor was back in the room. She hadn't even noticed he had left, but he was back now and talking to Harry. Leah didn't care. She just tuned them out. Eventually she would need to be taken home, but she decided that she could deal with that when she woke up.

Her mind was getting sluggish. Her eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier, and they refused to reopen now. She was drifting off, the thick feeling of sleep eclipsing all other thoughts. Her consciousness faded, and just when she was about to get there... The humming against her back became agitated somehow. She wasn't sure how she could tell the difference, but the walls seemed unhappy, which was perhaps one of the strangest thoughts that had ever crossed her mind.

Harry and the Doctor were now face to face, speaking to each other in a language she didn't understand and couldn't place. Harry was no longer the Harry she had known, and was instead the Harry who had so frightened her back at the mansion.

It was now clear that she would not be getting any sleep, so Leah crept forward ever so slightly and watched the two men with wide-eyed fascination. She couldn't understand a word they were saying, but the language captivated her. It had a lyrical quality to it, song-like and lilting as they spoke, and she could have listened to it all day. Even when they lapsed into harsher tones, the language compensated with its melodious flow.

Now she really didn't know what to do. Leah didn't want to interrupt them; even though she didn't know what they were saying, the conversation seemed like an important one. She got the idea that she shouldn't stop them quite yet. Still, she would need to get home and that seemed like something the Doctor could do for her.

Leah wished Jack was there. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do. Instead she just sat in place awkwardly, waiting for their conversation to stop so she could get out of their way. She didn't want to be a bother. Still, the tickle in her throat produced the tiniest of coughs, and try as she might to be discreet it still seemed to catch the attention of the Doctor.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm quite content to just sit here while the two of you work out whatever you've got going over there. I'm not in any rush to get home or anything." When the Doctor didn't say anything, she continued. "No, really, pay me no mind. Your thing seems more important anyway..."

I would like to take a brief moment to discuss matters of Temporal Grammatical Correctness. This may seem like a trivial matter and an odd time to discuss it, but it occurred to me that some of you may have noticed that sometimes the word "Time" is capitalized and others it is not. If you didn't before, you will now. Sorry.

Time is a strange thing, and different beings experience it in different ways. To humans – who make up most of my readership – Time is always linear. It is always cause to effect, and always intangible. You're always moving forward and there's not a whole lot you can do about it. Boring, in other words. To humans Time is always time, the uncapitalized version of the word.

To higher beings, such as the Time Lords or myself, Time is a little bit more complicated. Time can be something almost tangible, something we can sense, like taste or touch or smell. We can sense subtle differences in Time, and we can understand whether it is grand scale Time or simply personal time. This is a very important distinction to make because it can determine how wrong things are going because of the flux.

There is one Timestream. It can be linear, but usually it is not – even if some of you do experience it that way. The Timestream encompasses all of causality, anything and everything that ha happened, is happening, or ever will happen. The Timestream has infinite possibilities, and the ones that come true comprise this reality. Sometimes these possibilities branch off and can be altered by time travelling beings like the Doctor. Usually changes to the Timestream are contained within this universe and simply create small differences, but large changes can create alternate universes.

Then come timelines. The ultimate Timeline is everything that happens in this universe. While the Timestream is all of the possibilities, the Timeline is what actually happens in the most linear route. Even though they mean different things, the terms Timestream and Timeline are used interchangeably. This is mostly because the word "timeline" is most commonly used to refer to personal timelines.

Personal timelines are the linear paths that living beings live. We all move forward and everything happens to us in a certain order. Though we may travel about through Time and space experiencing events out of order, our own lives move linearly. What happens when we meet ourselves at different points in our own timeline is a little bit more complicated, and understanding how to refer to those events is covered in advanced Temporal Grammar courses.

What's that? You don't see how this is important to the story? Well, I didn't ask you. I believe I'm the Narrator, and I feel that this information is important for you to know, whether it has bearing on the events or not. The more you know and all that. It will have importance later in the story, I suppose, and it can help you understand on what level events are affecting Time. I wasn't going to give you homework, but for questioning my infinite wisdom you now have to explain the effects on each of our three heroes and one villain. Don't like that, do you? Well, don't question me next time.

See if I ever try and teach you again, you ungrateful... Nobody ever cares what the Narrator's got to say. I should narrate and nothing more.

Now, on with our story.

"Right, yes, Leah was it?" She nodded. "Sorry, forgot about you. I do that sometimes. As I said earlier, I can be a bit rude when I'm distracted. We really should get you home. You're right, we do have some important things to get to and it's probably best if you're not there for them. But I suppose you've got loads of questions and at the very least I can answer some of them before we part ways. So what did you want to start with? Bigger on the inside?"

The Doctor watched as the girl climbed down the ladder and walked over to where he and the Master stood. The Master had adopted a sarcastic smirk and leaned against one of the pillars. He didn't say a word but he didn't have to; the Doctor had a pretty good idea what he was thinking about.

"Is it?" mused the girl without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I hadn't noticed... What with everything else that was going on it must have slipped my mind. But wow, bigger on the inside!" Genuine incredulity filled her eyes as it dawned on her that it was, in fact, larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. There was the reaction the Doctor had been hoping for. It wasn't the right time for it, but he couldn't help but feel a small rush of pride.

A few feet to the Doctor's right, the Master rolled his eyes.

"No, what I was actually wondering," continued Leah, who had now gotten over the whole bigger on the inside thing, "is what language that was you were speaking?"

The Doctor had forgotten that the TARDIS didn't like to translate Old High Gallifreyan and he hadn't even noticed that he was speaking it. He spoke a lot of languages, but the ones he used most were English and his native tongue. It was easy to slip between the two without noticing.

"That was... the language of my people," answered the Doctor.

"Your people? As in... what, like, foreign?" tried Leah. "We don't get a lot of foreigners in Lakewood, city people speak all kinds of languages. I've never heard that one before."

The Doctor wasn't quite ready to explain everything about Gallifrey to this girl. He would be taking her home right away anyway so she didn't need to know everything. "It's an old language. A dead language, and not one spoken by anyone on Earth."

"So then you're an alien?"

"Yep." The Doctor turned to the Master. "You didn't explain any of this to her?"

The Master shrugged. "It never came up. Besides, as a human I was lucky I could even make it to London."

"Another question," Leah cut in. "Who is _he, _exactly?" She jabbed her thumb towards the Master.

"He's an alien like me. When you met him on Earth he was human, turned that way by some of our people's technology, but he's changed back now. The other one you saw – the one who had taken over the world – he was the alien version, but at an earlier point in his timeline," explained the Doctor.

"Oh Doctor, how you flatter me," said the Master sarcastically. He looked Leah in the eyes and grinned as he saw her shudder ever so slightly at the sudden eye contact. "I am the Master."

Leah scowled. "Nobody good was ever called the Master."

"Well of course not!" he scoffed. "If I was simply a good man I would have called myself something mediocre like _the Doctor_. No, I am a great man, and more than that I am a great Time Lord."

"Oh, it's an ego stroke."

The smirk on the Master's face disappeared and his expression grew instantly dark. There was no transition, just a flash between emotions. "Watch it girly," he growled. He was standing up straight now, no longer leaning on the pillar, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Leah's eyes widened but she did not flinch.

The Doctor intervened before things heated up. "Nevermind Master. You were the one who scooped her up, so play nice."

The Master gave Leah one last venemous glare before leaning against the pillar once more. His arms were folded across his chest and he was giving the Doctor a hard glare which was being ignored.

"Is he always like this?" Leah asked.

The Doctor sighed. "This is him being co-operative, and he's only doing that because he's got bigger fish to fry. Usually he's making some attempt to take over the universe and make my life as miserable as possible. Though that latter part isn't that difficult, he does that just by being himself. It's a gift, really, to be able to get under my skin so easily."

"Oh, yes, I'm the annoying one," the Master snapped. "I'm not the one who makes it my business to help every person I meet." He glared at them both a moment before looking down at his hands. "You're both lucky that the Chameleon Arch fixed me up. If I still had that energy coursing through my body I could have stopped Rassilon, killed you both, and had the universe under my control in time for tea."

"You're a right ray of sunshine, aren't you?" muttered Leah.

"OK, so, home," said the Doctor quickly. "We should get you there. Now would be a good time to do that. Where is home exactly?"

"Ooh, home. Lovely," sighed Leah. "Lakewood Hollow, Alberta."

Ah, that accent was Canadian. The Doctor knew he recognized it, though he didn't often encounter Canadians. Actually, he didn't often encounter people outside of England. Unless, of course, he was travelling somewhere in the past like ancient Rome or some such place, but even so everyone sounded so English. He supposed the country was a personal favourite of his, and British English was a personal favourite of the TARDIS', considering that's how she always translated it.

The Doctor nodded at Leah. Now that he knew the co-ordinates, it was time to head out. He dashed about the control panel again, making the moves that would be counter-intuitive to anyone else look completely natural. Clearly he was a man who knew what he was doing, or was at least really good at faking it. The TARDIS dematerialized smoothly, but when they were inside the vortex she started shaking. The ride was very rarely a smooth one, but these kinds of tremors never happened unless something was going very wrong.

"No!" cried the Doctor. "No no no no no, this can't be happening!"

"What did you do this time," the Master drawled. Leah had toppled over and the Doctor was dancing around madly to try and hold his footing, but the Master easily stayed steady. "Break something again?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor screeched. "I'm trying to... Come on girl, what's gotten into you?" He bashed a couple of controls with the mallet he kept handy. "Let's go, Canada, it can't be that hard... Oh she really doesn't want to co-operate! Oh no..." The Doctor's stomach sunk. "She's running. Something's trying to take control of the TARDIS and she's trying to escape. That can only mean one thing."

The Master looked at the Doctor, all trace of sarcasm gone from his face. He was now looking very serious and more than a little bit worried. "You don't mean..."

"I'm afraid so." The Doctor turned to the girl. "It looks like you're going to have to wait a little while longer before you get home."


	10. Dropping Bombs

**Chapter Nine- Dropping Bombs**

* * *

><p>"Grab onto something!" the Doctor shouted. He was barely audible over the strained wheezing of the TARDIS, the sound of the cloister bell tolling, and the various bumps and crashes and sparks that accented the cacophony. "Oh you poor thing," he muttered to the TARDIS. "This must be torture for you." If he wasn't so busy trying to steady them he would have stroked the console comfortingly. She was stressed out enough having the Master in here, this chase would do nothing to ease her nerves.<p>

His two passengers had suitably braced themselves. Leah was clinging to the Captain's chair, clearly thinking that would provide her with the most support. The Master stayed balanced easily from his casual position leaning against the pillar. It was clear that he understood the seriousness of the situation, he just wasn't going to do anything about it. The Doctor decided to believe that he just figured everything was in good hands, even though he knew that wasn't likely to be true.

"Hold tight, this is going to get rough!" The TARDIS shook a bit, then shook a lot, then tumbled out of the vortex until finally... _thunk_. "We've landed. I have no idea where, but we've landed." The Doctor leapt forward and barrelled towards the door. The Master glided smoothly after him with Leah following shakily in their wake.

"When you say landed you mean... _Oh_." Leah's breath caught in her throat as she stepped through the TARDIS doors. "We've _landed_."

Neither Time Lord was paying the girl any sort of attention; they were both far too preoccupied with what lay before them. They had moved alright. The TARDIS had been running, and she had taken them to a far off and desolate land.

All around them lay heaps of burning rubble and piles of ash, and crumbling buildings were all that remained of a once great city. There were stretches of downed magnetic monorail tracks and destroyed trains lining them. The area was dotted with multiple military grade airsip crash sites. Over the horizon lay barren land with nothing in sight for miles. Whatever had been out there was levelled and completely disintegrated. The air smelled of smoke and metal and death, but underneath that there was a distinctive twang of fresh cut grass and cherries.

The Doctor picked up that scent, which gave him an idea of what planet they were on. To confirm it he stooped down, ran a finger across the dust and brushed some of the dust across the tip of his tongue. The Master made a face at this, but the Doctor ignored him.

"Just as I thought," he muttered. Turning to the other two he declared "This is bad. This planet, Selerias, should be thriving. Something's come here and destroyed it."

"But what could do all of this?" Leah marvelled. "A war? This would take massive firepower."

"Rassilon," the Doctor replied darkly.

"Sorry?"

"One man, an alien like us, has done all of this. Just one, but a planet like this would be child's play to him," snarled the Master.

"He's dangerous and powerful, bad enough to make the Master team up with me," added the Doctor. The significance of this was lost on Leah, but to the Doctor this meant a great deal. Now that he was seeing just what they were up against it meant even more. It also meant that they had to get this girl out of there as soon as possible.

"I think he was trying to bring us here," the Doctor continued. "Somehow he was pulling the TARDIS and she was fighting back. She couldn't excape the spatial link, but she did manage to break the temporal pull, the clever girl. Unfortunately we're here too late to stop all of... _this_. I don't know what he's up to, but if he's willing to do this much, it's going to take a lot to stop him."

"Any bright ideas, then?" said the Master.

"No," replied the Doctor. "But I'll think of something. Now leave me alone, I need to think. Go talk to the girl, she looks like she could use a few kind, comforting words."

"And you think I'm the one to do it?"

"No, you're the worst person for the job, but I'm busy, and you're the one who brought her along. Now go."

Leah was sitting on a boulder that overlooked the valley of destruction below them. Scenes like this were commonplace for the Master, but the girl was regarding the place with a vacant expression. The Master figured that she was either deep in thought or her mind had shut down at the sight. He was betting on the latter. He walked over and took a tentative seat next to her. Be nice, the Doctor said. That wasn't part of the deal. When he decided to team up with the Doctor he hadn't bet on having to be _nice_ to anyone.

"Are you... alright?" he tried. The words were kind but his tone was a little bit strained. He wasn't used to this, and it wasn't as easy as the Doctor made it look.

"Yeah I suppose," Leah sighed. If she noticed the Master's awkwardness, it didn't bother her. "Just in shock I guess. Trying to process it all. We're on another planet you say? That's wild..."

"You're taking this all rather well."

Leah crinkled her nose. "Am I? I thought I was freaking out a little bit. How do people usually take these things? I don't belong here, in the middle of this fray. This is your business, and I'm an intruder. If Jack was here I'd probably be OK, but I feel very... frazzled. Though I suppose I could be freaking out a little bit more. I mean, I'm out a couple of grand because of travel costs, I missed Christmas and now all of this. I just don't know how to process it."

The Master was at a loss. Usually he was the one causing distress, not the one picking up after it. "There, there," he said, patting her head awkwardly.

She returned this gesture with a confused look. "Umm, thanks? Look, don't worry about me. Clearly this isn't your forte."

The Master let out a sigh of relief. She didn't want his comfort and he was grateful for that. "I'll leave you with your thoughts then." He was about to get up when the girl spoke again.

"I'm still not sure what to think about you though."

"Excuse me?" He sat back down.

Leah chewed her fingers a moment while she considered her response. "I just... Well, let's review the last couple of days. I drag you in off the streets and you're this lovely, if a little bit spaced out guy. Then I drive you to the airport to get you home, going out of my way to help you. I spent far too much on those plane tickets I didn't need to buy, though somehow you managed to get us into first class at a discount. That lady saw that paper and let us on without a second thought. Then I discover that you're actually evil and you got here through time travel and now we're on another planet with an alien like you who claims that you've tried to kill him... a lot. So who are you? And why am I here? How did I let myself get taken in by you?"

The girl talked a lot and asked a lot of questions. The Master usually stuck to explaining evil schemes, but he supposed he at least owed her a bit of explanation. She had saved his life after all, and even evil genius Time Lords had an honour code. "OK, you want answers? I'll give you answers. As a human I never should have been able to save the Doctor, but things slipped through. The urgency of the situation tapped into my subconscious and allowed me to access some of my Time Lord knowledge. For instance the plane: I showed that woman psychic paper. It's a little slip of paper that shows whatever I want on it. She thought I was an ambassador and you were my assistant, so we easily got seats. Getting you to come along with me must have been important, otherwise you would still be at home. I'm very good at... persuasion, so that must have bled through and got you to come along. You're job's over now, and you won't be safe if you stay with us any longer, but the Doctor will get you home."

"That's another thing," Leah piped up, "you and him. What's your deal? Are you guys enemies?"

"The Doctor and I... have known each other for a very long time," the Master said. "We've got a lot of history. Usually our interests differ and we find ourselves opposing one another, but this time there are more important things than a petty feud. When all of this is over we'll go back to fighting, even if the Doctor has convinced himself otherwise."

"Sounds complicated."

"Oh it is, believe me. More complicated than you could ever know."

They sat for a moment in silence. It seemed that their conversation was at an end, and the Master decided to leave the girl to gather her bearings. Before he left, he turned to her one last time. "You know, under any other circumstances I would have killed you or made you suffer. Don't go thinking I'm a nice person."

"Good to know," she replied dryly.

Secretly he felt responsible for her, though he would never admit it. The thought scared him, so the Master did his best to detatch himself from her. "When this is all over I probably still will."

"Right," she called back. "I'm looking forward to it."

She was an interesting sort of girl. Most humans made the Master sick to his stomach, the revolting species that they were. She only made him feel a little bit nauseous. Her intelligence left a lot to be desired, but she had kept a reasonably level head throughout this entire ordeal. Not to mention her indifference to his death threats. Either he was losing his touch or she was tougher than she looked.

The Master wandered over to where the Doctor was pacing. He had traced out a path for himself in the dust and was muttering under his breath. The Doctor was always one of those people whose thought process was a very verbal one. At least it was verbal when he was trying to piece together a mystery. When it came to thwarting schemes his thoughts were regrettably silent.

"Any progress?" asked the Master.

"Selerias – home to the Dorgari – has the most fantastic blue grass," the Doctor rambled. "Nutrients in its roots leach into the soil and are released into the air by the frequent rain. That's what gives the planet its distinctive odour. The grass is gone but the nutrients are still in the soil. They're just... soiled by all of the destruction and bloodshed."

"Doctor," the Master interrupted him. "I'm not one of your little pets. I know all of this. Have you figured out what we're doing about Rassilon yet?"

The Doctor ignored the question and barrelled on. "Why destroy Selerias? Why bring us here? What's the significance of... location!" A lightbulb lit up behind his eyes as the Doctor whirled around and locked eye contact with the Master. "It was bothering me before, but now it makes even less sense. Why Canada? Your escape could have brought you anywhere, so why Canada? By all means it should have brought you to where you needed to go, so why didn't it? The significance of location... There's something there but I just can't... Ooh, I thought I had something. We can't confront Rassilon without more information, we can't get more information without talking to Rassilon. That's one damning paradox."

"Doctor!" the Master interrupted again, a little bit more sharply this time. "Calm down. Why Canada? I don't know, but the state I was in it was lucky I even made it to Earth at the right time. We can figure out the significance of location later, but first we need to worry about finding and stopping Rassilon. If you're not going to come up with anything, then I've got a few ideas."

"Oh?" inquired the Doctor. "By all means, what do you suggest?"

"We need firepower and lots of it. There must be some we can salvage from around here, they won't be needing it anymore. We take what we can find then track down Rassilon. If he was trying to bring us here, then we can use the TARDIS to trace where the summons came from and home in on him. Then we jump out, fire away, and take him down." The Master thought it was foolproof. Get in and get out as fast as they could and stop him before he could do any more damage.

"Absolutely not," replied the Doctor. "We're not killing him."

"This is no time to get sentimental," the Master snapped. "You know better than I do what he's capable of, he needs to be stopped at any cost!"

"We are not killing him," the Doctor insisted. "During the Time War he had fleets of Time Lords at his disposal. Now he's alone and we should have no trouble stopping him without having to resort to that."

"We don't know that he came alone!" argued the Master. "Besides, look at what he's done here. Even if it is just him, he's managed the destruction of this place single handedly. And don't go telling me that this could have been caused by anything else, you and I both know that this was his doing."

"This only happened because we weren't here to stop it," the Doctor retorted. "And who's to say that he did this all by himself. We don't know how long he's been out of the Time Lock relative to universe Time, so he could have had time to scrape together an army to take this place down."

"Then that's even more reason to take up arms! If he's got fleets at his disposal then we're going to need to fight our way through. I didn't escape the Time War just to get killed by Rassilon anyway."

"The answer is no. You wanted my help, we'll do this my way. If he does have armies, chances are he's talked them into it. We might be able to get them on our side. But we cannot kill him, not as our first resort. He created the Time Lords, we can't just kill him like that."

The Master snorted derisively. "Oh I see how it is. You won't allow yourself to kill an idol. You always did admire him back at school. That explains why you were so willing to shoot me back at the mansion. In the friend or idol decision, you always choose the one you look up to."

"Shut up!" the Doctor shouted. "In case you didn't notice, I was hardly willing to shoot you. And in case you didn't notice, I didn't actually shoot you, so you can shut up now." He glared at the Master for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before continuing. He was calm when he spoke again. "Listen, I've got a plan. You're just going to have to trust me."

"You gonna let me in on this plan anytime soon?"

"Hey guys!" Leah called out before the Doctor had a chance to reply. "I'm sorry to interrupt your little... domestic tiff over there, but I think you're going to want to see this. That box – the tardy did you call it? Well, whatever it is, the one we came in on... It's glowing and making noise."

"No!" cried the Doctor as he leapt forward. He closed the distance between where he was standing and the TARDIS in a few long strides and motioned for his companions to follow. "Time to go you lot! She's being pulled again, and she'll shift in just a moment. Get inside now, unless you want to be stuck here."

Leah and the Master obliged and all three piled inside the TARDIS. She was shaking violently again, but this time the Doctor was ready. He danced around the console and steadied her a little bit. They had to get away from Rassilon's pull.

"This is perfect!" called the Master. "Just follow the pull and then we can take him out." He pulled out a gun. "I'm ready for him."

"Where the hell did you get that?" the Doctor shouted back. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and disabled the handgun before the Master did anything stupid with it. The Doctor continued over the other Time Lord's protests. "We can't go there on his terms. The pull is stronger this time, but we can still escape it. Then we'll seek him out and catch him by surprise."

Any other conversation was drowned out by the cloister bell. This was turning out to be more difficult than he thought it would be. The TARDIS was still tired from their last escape and this next capture attempt had come too soon after the last one. Rassilon was wearing down their defences and the Doctor had no doubt that the other Time Lord knew this. They had to act quickly and find him before he found them again. If they were caught before they were ready it could turn out to be disastrous.

This meant some quick thinking on the Doctor's part. He didn't really have a plan, he only said that to shut the Master up. He had some ideas, but nothing more than he usually had. Advance preparation wasn't his strong point. Improvisation simply wouldn't be enough this time, and the Doctor knew they had to have some sort of plan of action before confronting Rassilon if they were to have any hope at beating him. He was determined to solve this without resorting to violence – sending Rassilon back into the War seemed like their best bet – but if he didn't figure out how to do this soon, they would have to go with the Master's plan.

The Doctor continued to dance about the TARDIS console, appearing to the casual oberver to be no more frantic than usual. In fact he was flying her more intricately than he had ever needed to, stretching his driving abilites to the very extent of their limits. He had to use evasive manoeuvers while trying to keep her steady enough to find a place to land – not an easy task. But finally, after several more stressful minutes of manic lever flipping, frantic button mashing and strategic mallet banging, they landed.


	11. Friends Among Foes

**Chapter Ten- Friends Among Foes**

The doors swung open to reveal a new planet. The sky was a clear, pale green and a single sun burned large in the distance. Before them lay a vast, sprawling city. Large buildings towered overhead, decorated by enormous holographic screens. The screens displayed nothing more than an error message. The world seemed pristine and untouched, but it was far too silent for there to be any life left. Leah didn't get any sort of analysis on this situation since her travel companions were otherwise occupied.

Another planet in ruins, another place for the Doctor and the Master to bicker.

"You broke my gun!" the Master exclaimed for the third time.

"You brought a gun onto my TARDIS," the Doctor countered for what seemed like the millionth time. "_You_ brought a gun onto my TARDIS. Right, because I'm going to trust that. You, with a gun, on my TARDIS. What could possibly go wrong?"

Leah was about ready to punch the both of them. "I'm gonna go look around a bit!" she called out. They ignored her.

"I wasn't going to shoot you," the Master was rambling. "Not yet, anyway. Not until we stop Rassilon."

"OK, so that really convinced me to let you keep the firearm."

"Oh don't mind me!" Leah said. "I'll just go wander off over this way and get lost, never to return home again." Still nothing.

"Well if you don't trust me with guns, why don't you be the one who carries it then," snapped the Master.

The Doctor's face darkened. "You know that's not my style."

"Alright, I'm just gonna fly off to another planet and destroy that one before this Rassi-whosit does it. Sound good?" Again, no response.

"Oh, you could have fooled me," the Master retorted. "What about the one back at the mansion?"

"Never gonna live that down..." the Doctor muttered before raising his voice again. "For the last bloody time, I wasn't going to shoot you!"

Leah rolled her eyes. She wandered a little bit, so that she was just out of earshot. She could see where they were, but their bickering became muted. They needed some space to sort out whatever needed sorting out and then they could focus on what they were supposed to be doing. Leah found a nice little bench to plop herself down on, and she sat there for a little while, hugging her knees. She would give the men some space for a few minutes, but she wouldn't stay here too long. Being alone on a strange planet didn't sit too well with her.

The whole place was eerie. There was no movement, no sounds and no signs of life, and yet everything still stood tall and intact, as though it was on display. It seemed to be preserved by something. It gave Leah the creeps. OK, she hadn't been away long, but it was plenty enough time for the other two to work things out. Time to head back. She would rather deal with them than sit here alone for any extended period of time.

As she unfolded her legs out from under her, ready to get up, something caught her eye. Not too far from where she was seated was a building. This in itself was none too fascinating since there were a number of buildings all around, but this building in particular had one thing that none of the others did and that was an open door. Every single other door and window was sealed right shut, but this one door was open.

It was an invitation.

Leah crept up to the door and poked her head in. The room was large, dark and empty, which didn't particularly surprise her. The building reminded her of an office building, with this front room being the foyer and reception area. It was sparsely decorated by a pair of couches facing each other to her left, and a desk to her right. On the far wall was an elevator that had once led to the higher levels but was now out of order. Leah had no idea what this building had once been for, but the computer sitting on the desk was just begging her to access it and find out.

She was good with computers. Sure she was on another planet and the aliens likely used a different operating system, but she could almost guarantee that she would figure it out. It was a gift, and if there was one thing in the whole universe Leah was good at, it was computers. Well, that and firearms. The keyboard was in English, which she hadn't expected but still barely noticed. Settling into the office chair behind the desk, she began to tap away and get to work.

There wasn't much security on the computer, which made sense since it was nothing more than the machine at a receptionist's desk. After a few clicks, Leah learned that this building was some sort of research facility. There was something on the files about some sort of virus and then... nothing. It was odd. Still, there was not enough information at this console to make any sort of conclusions about what had happened. She decided to head back out and let the experts handle it. They could do some investigating as a team as soon as they stopped bickering.

As Leah was about to stand, ready to leave, something cold and hard pressed itself into her back. "No sudden movements," demanded a voice from behind her. Ah, so there was life after all. Too bad they weren't feeling particularly welcoming.

* * *

><p>"OK," said the Doctor. "Enough of this. Look, you wanted my help, we're going to do things my way."<p>

The Master scowled. "Can we do things my way when your way fails?" This wasn't going the way he had hoped. He supposed the way he hoped was unrealistic, considering he expected the Doctor to do all the legwork and still listen when he made commands, though he should have known that the Doctor had too much bloody pride to do it that way.

The Doctor considered this for a moment. "If my way doesn't work, and we're still alive, I _suppose_ you can do things how you like. You're going to have to step things up a bit though, if you're expecting your plan to go any better than mine."

"Oh? And what makes you think that I'm not doing better than you as it is?" snapped the Master.

"Well you're not keeping a very good eye on your companion, are you?" the Doctor said. "You didn't even tell her not to run off. That's rule one! For shame. And you probably didn't even notice her leave."

"What? No, well I– Look, it doesn't matter," the Master stammered. "We've got more important things to worry about."

"Of course it matters! She's more important than you think. Besides you were the one who brought her along. But you are right, we do have more important things to worry about." The Doctor turned on his heel and began to investigate. He examined the dirt, eyed the buildings and sniffed the air.

"So wait," said the Master. "If she's so important, we're just going to... leave her?"

The Doctor shrugged and continued snooping around. "Well, she's probably a bit more resourceful than you give her credit for, so I imagine she can fend for herself." He picked up a small vial lying in the middle of the street and muttered absently to himself. "What have we here? This doesn't seem good..." A bit louder he said. "Besides, if anything happens to her, we'll know."

"Why do you say that?" asked the Master, who had taken a seat in a bench not far from where they had been standing. He didn't particularly care about the girl, and he had grown bored by the Doctor's antics.

"Well she's not gone far," replied the Doctor. "We should be able to hear her scream from here."

* * *

><p>"Hey, be cool," Leah said evenly. "I don't mean any harm-"<p>

"Silence!" the voice demanded, digging the gun barrel into her shoulder blade. "Not a word, not yet. Just stand up, nice and easy, and turn around."

She did as she was told and found herself face to face with a real, honest to God alien. He was bipedal and roughly the size and shape of a man, with a few quirks. For one, he was green. His eyes were large, black orbs embedded in a bulbous head. Scales lined his skin and each hand had four fingers – which did not impede his weapon handling in any way. He wore a black, armoured jumpsuit with several other weapons and gadgets holstered. The chair was still between them and the desk right behind her. That combined with the pistol being aimed at her heart was enough to discourage Leah from running.

She was gawking wide-eyed at him. The Doctor and the Master could claim they were aliens all they liked, but at least they blended in. This... This was something new.

He pulled out something else with his other hand and aimed this at her as well. "Performing initial scan," he muttered as a green light flashed between her eyes and moved up and down her body. "Neural activity moderate, single vascular system, normally functioning respiratory system... Human. Unarmed." He lowered his gun. "Harmless."

Leah let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in.

"Sorry about that," the alien said. "I'm a little bit on edge right now. Whole planet's gone silent, you never know when you'll find looters or scavengers intent on bleeding this place dry. Or someone come to finish what they've started..."

"What happened here?" Leah asked.

"A disease – a virus of some kind – wiped out all life on this planet," the alien explained. "All of the natives at least."

"Not you?"

"No. You see, I'm an offworld ambassador. My job is to blend in with the natives and gather intel on them and, if the situation allows, make contact," he continued. "The Slorox – bless them – have yet to discover interstellar travel, so contact was not an option. My mission was just about to end when this disease starts to break out. I was lucky because it only affected the natives and not myself. Next thing we know this guy, nasty looking fellow, descends from the heavens and tells us he can help. He'll cure the virus and save everyone, but only if they choose to serve him. Now, situation's looking desperate so most are looking to join him, but it only takes a couple of them to mouth off and pretty soon everyone's dying."

"That's horrible..." Leah gasped.

"Isn't it just," he said wryly. "Only problem is, I'm stuck on this forsaken little rock. The guy finds me, knows instantly I'm not one of them and offers me up a position as his right hand man. Why would he want someone like me? I'm just an Ambassador. I say no and he doesn't take that too kindly. Says he'll leave me here to rot, destroys my transport and communications and buggers off. So now I'm stuck here, scavenging among the ruins of the planet. Impossible to tell if the Embassy would send someone after me. I imagine the planet's under quarantine, and they would assume me to be a casualty. Still, it is nice to see someone else. You are a friendly face, right?" He stroked the weapon.

"Yes!" Leah said quickly. "Of course. Like you said, harmless. But should I be worried? About getting sick, I mean."

"No, like I said it only affects the natives. But hold on... Human." The alien's expression twisted into what almost looked like puzzlement. He seemed to be thinking. "It's what, early twenty-first century Earth time?" Now Leah could swear she saw suspicion flash across his features. "See, my brother's stationed on Earth. Lovely planet, he says, and the humans are nice. Trouble is, though, that the humans – bless them – have yet to discover interstellar travel and make meaningful contact." He aimed the gun at her again. "So now how do you suppose an early twenty-first century human made it to Ardat Seven? Halfway across the galaxy makes for a very long commute."

"Hey!" Leah cried, raising her hands. "I thought you said I was harmless."

"Oh yes, you're harmless, but the people you came here with might not be," the alien replied. "And harmless humans do make such excellent hostages. Come along then, show me who brought you here." He nudged her onwards, barrel of the weapon buried in her back once again.

Leah didn't believe he would shoot her, but she led him to the Doctor and the Master anyway. "You said your brother was stationed on Earth?" she asked, making conversation as they went.

"That's right."

"That's funny though, because I think the humans would recognize someone who looked like, well, you," she said.

"Oh this? Oh no," the alien chuckled. "This is just what the Slorox look like. All ambassadors are masters of disguise. I told you, we need to blend in. This isn't what I really look like."

"How do you really look like?"

"Just never you mind," he snapped.

They walked on until they reached the spot where the Doctor and the Master stood. By the looks of things they had stopped arguing, but it didn't seem like they noticed Leah had left.

"Now both of you stand nice and still and don't say a word, or the girl gets it," the alien demanded. He took out the weird light device and shone it on the two of them. "Time Lord... Impossible. Not to be trusted."

"You don't destroy his gun," the Master muttered under his breath.

"That's because his weapon is deadlocked," retorted the Doctor.

"I said silence, both of you!"

"Oh, now, it'll take a bit more than that to shut me up. If you would please just put that weapon away, we can talk this out," said the Doctor.

"You're in no position to be making bargains," said the alien.

"No," the Doctor agreed, "but you're not really in any sort of position to be taking anyone hostage, Ambassador. You are from the Embassy, aren't you? You've got the deadlocked weapon, the official tone of voice and the seal across your jumpsuit. It all just _screams_ Shadow Proclamation Embassy, unless of course you're just a looter, in which case I'll have to stop you anyway. But since you've not been infected, I'm assuming you've had your immunizations, so Ambassador seems more likely."

The alien drew the gun away from Leah's back and holstered the weapon. "Ambassador Kriel Rieg'Hadar of the Embassy, at your service. And I'll have you know, I am still a fully, officially licensed officer of the Shadow Proclamation. He was a Time Lord and the two of you are Time Lords which makes your presence here suspicious. Which means I need to take the two of you in for questioning."

"Can you take me home while you're at it?" Leah asked, but she was ignored.

"You're not going to do that," said the Doctor. "If you had a working vessel you would have left here ages ago."

"I could be here on a salvage mission," Kriel replied.

"No, because they don't send Ambassadors on salvage missions. Besides, this whole place is under quarantine, there's no way the Shadow Proclamation would have sent anyone else here. You're stuck here and you've got no way to take us into custody. But I'll tell you what, we can take my ship," the Doctor offered. "We'll head to the Shadow Proclamation and use their resources to track him down. Because that Time Lord that came here? We're looking for him too. He's got a lot to answer to, this planet's only added to that list."

"And I'm supposed to trust you, just like that?" Kriel asked warily.

"Yep," said the Doctor. "And you know why? Because I'm the Doctor. The Shadow Proclamation will want retribution for what's happened here and the only way they'll get it is by helping me. Besides I'm your only way off this rock. Now what are we waiting for Kriel Rieg'Hadar? Allons-y!"


	12. Overshadowed

**Chapter Eleven- Overshadowed**

The Doctor's head was pounding, and his mind was racing. To think that the problems he had dealt with this morning now seemed relatively small. It seemed like an eternity ago that he was in that final stand off with the Master and Rassilon. That was supposed to be it. He was supposed to just die and then get on with his life, dealing with regular level threats like the Cybermen and the odd temporal anomaly. He hadn't been expecting this.

Things kept piling up, one factor after another just coming at them left, right and centre. Rassilon, the Master, the girl, the genocide and now the Ambassador were playing tug-of-war with his attention, and he needed to sort them all out. He kept running through possible scenarios, trying to keep things organized and bring about an outcome that resulted in minimal casualties.

So far it was not looking good.

Fortunately, having the Shadow Proclamation at his disposal would help things along, though he suspected they would be none to happy with what he had to say.

"Well, he's a better driver than you!" the Master snapped at Leah.

Oh. Excellent. They were providing their trip with a commentary on the Doctor's driving ability.

The girl scoffed. "Hey, I'm a fantastic driver! I only violated... seven major traffic laws. That's pretty good. Besides, the car's got seatbelts. I'd like to know what would happen if this thing were to crash. I'd imagine some horrific time event thingy that would result in all of our repeated flaming deaths, and the erasing of the universe from existence. Or something."

Actually, she wasn't far off.

When they finally landed, the Ambassador walked purposefully to the door. "Let me go first. Give me a minute to smooth things over with everyone. I will inform them of the situation and just what you intend to do about it."

"Or," the Doctor cut in, "we could all just go out at once. You can have your reunion party and cake afterwards. I'd love to be there for that, but we're on something of a tight schedule you see. Bit of a rush. Don't worry, they know me here. I know my way around. Won't be a minute."

The Doctor breezed past the Ambassador, the Master following closely behind. Kriel shot the girl a look, but she didn't fully understand what the alien features were trying to convey. She just shrugged her shoulders in response and followed the boys out of the TARDIS.

"Oh no, you stay here," demanded the Doctor. He rounded on Leah, grabbed her shoulders and guided her back to the TARDIS. "I need you to stay put. The second you wander off, something bad _will_ happen, because it always does, and then we'll never get you home. Soon as I can, I'll get someone here to escort you back to Earth. You don't need anymore trouble in this lifetime."

Leah opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor cut her off. "Look, no buts. This is for me and the Master to handle, and having you around just complicates things."

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have even thought to come here. I'm the one who found alien boy over there. I also brought you the other alien boy."

"Yes, and I appreciate that very much," the Doctor said. "But as it stands right now, you are in too much danger to be allowed to continue on this little adventure with us. We're taking you home, and that's final."

With that, the Doctor turned on his heel before the girl could answer. Leah was left to stand in front of the TARDIS, mouth open as the beginning of a response started to form. Sighing and crossing her arms, she leaned against the big, blue, wooden box. She was being told to stay in the car while the big boys go play. It wasn't fair. She was starting to get into the adventure. Though she was exhausted and missed Jack and her mother, she wanted to make sure her contributions didn't go unnoticed. This whole endeavour seemed pretty urgent, so wouldn't more people helping be better? Probably, but whatever the case, none of those people seemed very likely to be her.

The Shadow Proclamation exists within Mutter's Spiral in order to maintain peace and uphold Galactic Law. Located about halfway between the galactic core and the northern outer arm of the spiral, it consists of three asteroids with different roles joined together for the universal purpose of order and safety. The central asteroid is home to the Shadow Architects, and is the hub for the creation of laws and the enactment of justice. The asteroid facing towards the galactic core is the barracks and dispatch centre. Any troops that need to head out into the field are based and dispatched from there. On the final asteroid sits the Embassy. The Ambassadors convene with other centres of enforcement to discuss new protocols. They also establish bases on developing planets within the galaxy to gather more information and deem when they are ready to be governed by the Galactic Law.

Kriel led the Doctor and the Master to the inner sanctum of the Embassy. They ultimately needed to deal with the Shadow Architects to get what they needed, but the Doctor wanted a few answers from the Ambassador first.

The whole place reeked of bureaucracy, which was not conducive to an inflexible schedule. The Doctor needed to get in and get out as fast as possible so they could stop Rassilon and carry on with more important matters, such as what to do with the Master. Unfortunately, bringing back an Ambassador thought to be dead by the rest of the organization made for a few delays. Kriel was facing stacks of paperwork and a multitude of questions about the incident. The Doctor understood that this stuff needed to be done, but did it have to be on his time?

"Oi, pipe down you lot!" the Master snapped at the third group of Ambassadors questioning Kriel. Pushing them all aside, he grabbed Kriel's wrist and steered him away from the crown. "This can all be dealt with later. Our thing can't. We win, now shove off."

The Doctor had to admit, he admired the Master's direct approach. It was certainly effective.

When they finally reached Kriel's office they had somewhere quiet to do business, and it was time to talk. The Ambassador sat behind his desk, the Doctor took a seat on the other side, and the Master took up his post leaning against the wall in a corner. Leaning seemed to be his go-to "casually sarcastic" stance.

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this," grumbled Kriel. "We're going to have to make this quick though. I've got a _lot_ to deal with when this is over. Coming back from the dead just isn't that easy anymore."

"Yes, as quick an painless as possible is probably our best bet," agreed the Doctor.

"Well, what do you want to know first?"

"Tell me about the virus," said the Doctor. "How did it start? What did it to? Why weren't you affected? Most importantly, where were all the bodies?"

The Ambassador sighed. "It was awful. Ardat Seven was a Level Five planet, only slightly more technologically advanced than Earth. They didn't stand a chance. One day some Slorox start getting sick. It advanced slowly at first and didn't seem fatal, but it was still worrisome because a lot of them were catching it. The virus was nothing any of them had ever seen before. So I started investigating. I'm not supposed to interfere, merely to observe, but I began to get suspicious. See, the disease didn't match anything in any of the databases I have access to, and believe me, I have access to a lot of databases.

"Nobody's dying yet, but nobody's getting any better. Then one day this guy shows up – the guy you're looking for I imagine – and says that he can help. The Slorox haven't made any sort of contact yet, so naturally the government are feeling pretty xenophobic. The ones who are sick want to take his help, but the ones in charge refuse it. Then all Hell breaks loose.

"Everyone seemed to get sick overnight. The medical staff couldn't keep up and started getting sick themselves. It was airborne, and when people started dying... well, I have no idea how it's even possible, but this is the worst part. When the people died the bodies... decomposed in a way I'd never seen before. They just seemed to disintegrate completely with nothing left of them. When that happened, it released toxins into the air infecting everyone else. The planet was wiped clean."

In his corner, the Master kept a neutral expression and a neutral tone of voice, but he couldn't help but say "That's pretty gruesome."

"Gruesome doesn't even begin to describe it," said Kriel quietly.

Behind the Doctor's eyes, gears were turning. "The virus didn't affect you though?"

"No, it seemed to target the Slorox specifically," the Ambassador replied.

"What about that man?" asked the Master. "Did you talk to him at all?"

Kriel nodded. "He noticed I wasn't getting sick. Dunno where he was hiding that whole time, but he seemed to be able to tell that I was special somehow, that I didn't belong on that planet. So he confronted me about it. I finally admitted I was an Ambassador. This seemed to intrigue him, and he asked me to join him. Said nobody else had taken up his offer yet and I could be his right hand man. I politely declined and he... didn't take that very well. Destroyed nearly everything I had and left me with no way to escape."

"How long were you there before we showed up?" asked the Master. He was wondering what could possibly be going on in the Doctor's head for him to be distracted enough to leave _him_ to conduct this interview. If he had chosen now to be craving Jelly Babies, the Master vowed to throw the Doctor out the airlock next chance he got.

"Only a few days. To be honest, I'm kind of glad you did because I'm not too sure how much longer I could have survived if you hadn't." The Ambassador paused before he said "You two better go. We've all got a lot we need to get done."

"Fair point," agreed the Doctor. "Thank you, Ambassador. You've been a tremendous help. Oh and Kriel?" He leaned forward and grabbed the Ambassador's hand. "I'm so, so sorry for what you've gone through. Good luck with the clean up."

"Thank you, Time Lord."

Leaping up out of his seat, the Doctor breezed out of the room, leaving the Master to quickly gather his wits and trail after him. "Slow up you spastic ninny! What's going on?"

The Doctor's face darkened but he didn't slow down. It was even more imperative now that he got what he needed from the Shadow Proclamation. "That virus? Not good. Sickness is never good but this one? Very not good. Tailored to target a single species. Developed during the war but never used. They never got the chance."

"The Time Lords were resorting to biological warfare?" marvelled the Master. "What the hell did I miss in that war?"

"Believe me, you're better off not knowing," the Doctor assured him. "But if this virus is any indication you're about to find out. There's no telling what else Rassilon's brought with him. That's why we need to find him and stop him _now_, before he turns the whole universe into the second Last Great Time War. And believe me, that will not be pretty."

* * *

><p>Not just anyone can be an Ambassador. They are a specific species with excellent disguise features. They had once had a name of their own, but they have taken to calling themselves the Ambassadors. Very few beings know what they truly look like, because most of them pick a pet form and stick to it for the majority of their lives. They used to have their own planet, but most of them just live on the Embassy. Still, not all Ambassadors go on to work at the Embassy. Some move to other planets, but nobody would ever know because their disguise technique is so effective.<p>

All those employed at the Embassy are registered and each have their own roles. There are those who head out into the field to gather information, and those who stay at the Embassy to sort and store the information. Because Ambassadors have such long lifespans, they were able to spend centuries on a planet awaiting the proper level of advancement to establish contact and welcome them under the umbrella of Galactic Law.

Kriel Rieg'Hadar had always been part of the reconnaissance team, working hard on a variety of planets to exhaust the information that could be gathered and finally make contact when appropriate. He had already brought in seven different planets under the rulings of Galactic Law, and Ardat Seven had been well on its way to being his eighth.

Unfortunately, he became rather shell-shocked after the events involving the virus. It was time for him to slow down a bit and take up a nice desk job. Sorting information could be fun too. Though he enjoyed the exotic locations he had visited over his lifetime, he decided that living vicariously through the other Ambassadors was just as good. He could live with a quiet life. It was certainly less painful this way.

* * *

><p>The Lady Shadow Architect sat behind a giant stack of papers atop her desk, pen wielded in her left hand and a pair of spectacles perched on the end of her nose. Her job was less about the flashy aspects of law enforcement and more about the paperwork. Oh sure she took part in the occasional trial, but the bureaucracy aspect far outweighed that. Normally the Embassy was out of her jurisdiction, but with the return of an Ambassador thought to be dead with the planet of Ardat Seven, she would be signing papers for weeks.<p>

She was still signing the papers regarding Selerias.

They were at a period of relative peace in the Galaxy, and for that she was grateful. There was the mysterious destruction of Selerias, but she had a team investigating. The most exciting thing happening these days was the return of that Ambassador, but that didn't require her to leave her office. Yes, it was looking to be a quiet few weeks spent in her office, signing and initialling stack after stack of paperwork.

If only she could be so lucky.

"Excuse me miss!" exclaimed one of the albino servants and she burst into the Architect's office. "There's a commotion outside that requires your attention."

"I'm a little bit busy right now, have the Judoon handle it."

"I'm sorry madam, but you're really going to want to see this," the servant girl assured her. "He's back – it's him. The Doctor is back!"

Removing her spectacles, the Shadow Architect stood abruptly. "Of course."

The scene in the lobby of the central asteroid of the Shadow Proclamation was one of chaos. The Doctor was positioned at one of their terminals, having easily hacked into their systems. The Judoon were attempting to wrangle a strange blond man who was shouting profanities at them in their own language. From down the hallway yet another stranger, this one a female, was being dragged in by a pair of Judoon. She was thrashing about, struggling against the tight grip they had on her upper arms, but when they threatened her with a nasty looking stun gun, she followed peacefully.

"Order!" barked the Architect. "I will have order." The room fell still. "Thank you. Now... Doctor, I was not expecting to see you back here so soon. How did you get in here without my knowledge?"

"Came in 'round the back," muttered the Doctor as he sifted through the files.

"They came in with the lost Ambassador, madam. They rescued him," explained the servant.

"All of the commotion was excellent cover," added the Master. His captors had eventually managed a work a pair of shackles onto his wrists, but they maintained a tight grip on his shoulders and stood over him menacingly.

Leah had been released by the Judoon and was standing in a corner. She rubbed her arms, which were a bit red, and she looked a bit dazed, but she was otherwise unharmed. "What happened to 'we'll get you home as soon as we can?'"

"I thought you didn't want to go home," said the Doctor.

"Well, it's preferable to all of... _this_," she replied, indicating the room around her. "At home I never got man-handled by space rhinos. Although the experience was oddly similar to making out with Danny Martin two years ago..."

"Enough," ordered the Architect. "Doctor, why are you here? Do you require something?"

"I've almost got what I need thanks," he replied distractedly. "Though a cup of tea would be lovely."

"I could go for some coffee, actually," added Leah.

The Shadow Architect sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is unacceptable. Doctor, I'm afraid I cannot allow you access to our files without the proper clearance. There isn't an emergency like the last time."

The Doctor looked up for the first time since taking his position at the terminal. The look in his eye was so dark and so intense that it actually caused the Architect to falter. "Oh, there's an emergency alright," he said. The tone in his voice was enough to silence the entire room. "Somebody's escaped the Time War, and he needs to be stopped. I'm assuming you've heard about Selerias? That was him. The most powerful Time Lord has been unleashed upon the universe and it's up to us to stop him. Now, you _will_ allow us access to these files if you want any hope of maintaining peace in the Galaxy and the rest of the universe."

He stared at her, fixing his big brown eyes on her red ones, until she finally gave up. "Alright. Access whatever data you need."

In a flash, his dark expression was replaced with a cheery one. "Oh, thanks, we've got what we need! We'll just be off now and..." he trailed off as the Judoon aimed their weapons at him and his companions. "Oh. That's not a good idea. Preventing us from leaving now would be... unwise."

"We know who your partner is, Doctor," said the Architect. "Since they were returned, we've been keeping close tabs on the planets that were stolen by the Daleks. We know who this man is and we know what he is capable of. His actions on Earth must be punished. We cannot allow him to leave this place. You and the girl are free to go, but the other Time Lord must remain."


	13. Speed Bump

**Author's** **Note: **HOLY CRAPOLY! Wow. It's been a while. Sorry. But it's still Sunday where I am, so hopefully we can return to our regularly scheduled chapter releases! Even if I am, what, two or so months off... I can explain, really! Well, June I have no excuse for, but I was lifeguarding at a summer camp for two weeks in July and then work. So there's that. Also Olympics have been distracting. GO TEAM CANADA! And Team GB. And I suppose I'm rooting for the States too, though they don't exactly need my support... ANYHOW. Here's another chapter, hopefully of satisfactory quality and length. With any luch the next chapter will be out next Sunday, but I'm not 100% certain. Reviews certainly help though. Not that I'm asking or anything... ON WITH THE SHOW!

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve- Speed Bump<strong>

He was free. Using the Key to the Time Lock was the easy part. The hard part, actually creating the damn thing, had been completed long ago, though it had been no easy task. The other two Keys – both in the form of small, silver balls – were nothing more than secondary escapes. But this, his Gauntlet, was his masterpiece. Harvesting the Matrix energy to create his backups had been child's play compared to the work that had gone into this beauty.

It had taken years of hard work, but finally Rassilon had created the ultimate tool and the ultimate weapon. It was more than just a Key to the Time Lock. With this Gauntlet, all of reality was at his mercy. He could manipulate matter and energy, warp Time and space and bend the universe to his will. Brimming with Matrix energy, this Gauntlet would secure his place at the head of reality, as he was always meant to be.

In the new universal order, Rassilon would need subjects. They all needed to know just who was at the top, who had always been at the top. So he decided to give them a chance. Whatever planet he landed on, he would give them a chance to join him, to bow at his feet and accept him as their Lord. If they refused, the planet would be destroyed. Then he would seek out the Doctor and the Master.

With the combined power of a TARDIS and his Gauntlet Rassilon would be able to pinpoint the location of the Doctor's TARDIS and bring it to him. Certainly the Doctor would be able to escape him, but if Rassilon left them messages in the form of genocide, perhaps they would be a little bit more willing to oblige his will. And if they weren't, then he would find other ways to bring them to him.

He would not go to them. That was another matter of pride. They had to be brought to him and obey his will. He would not bend to their whims. Was it practical? No, but the Doctor and the Master were not his priority. They would pay one way or another, and he would prefer to have them in his grasp, but he always had a backup plan. Rassilon was the one with the power and there was no escape for the Doctor and the Master.

For all of his power, the Matrix and his immortality, the one thing that meant the most to Rassilon was the one thing he could not save. His life had become all about preserving the Time Lord society, his creation and his life's work, but that was one goal he ultimately would not succeed in. Saving Gallifrey meant damning the universe, which in turn meant becoming beings of pure consciousness. Wild and convoluted, yes, but if it meant survival then so be it. Except that plan had been thwarted by the Doctor, who always did seem to have such a romantic attachment to the universe.

So now Rassilon was left to rebuild. He had done it once, he could do it again. Things would go differently this time. The horrors they could not stop resided safely within the War, but outside of the Time Lock there was nothing that could stand in Rassilon's way, not even the Daleks. He could keep all opposition at bay and rebuild the Time Lord society, bigger and better than ever. Sure it hurt to let the original Gallifrey burn and leaving it behind was no easy feat, but it was time to learn from his mistakes and move on. A new Gallifrey would be born and the entirety of the universe would be moulded in the image of the Time Lords. Nothing would stand in his way.

Not even the Doctor and the Master.

Their interference would not hinder him. In fact, he welcomed it. He needed it. He needed one of them to survive, but he preferred taking them both alive. He could rebuild without them, but it would be far less interesting. Having the three of them would provide greater diversity in their genetic material, allowing larger numbers of Time Lords to be produced. Harvesting their genetic material required their presence, which really just led him back to getting his hands on them.

Resourceful as he always was, Rassilon decided to stomp on two pests with one boot. Causing destruction was a means to two ends, and that was exactly the way he liked it. Quick and efficient.

There was a number of confounding factors and infinite possibilities for interference with his plans. It was of the utmost importance that he did not underestimate the Doctor and the Master. He had seen what they were capable of, and he knew both of them to be wild cards. The two of them working together increased Rassilon's chances for failure.

There was always a preferred means to his end, and having the two of them at each other's throats was the ideal situation. Their squabbling would keep them distracted enough to make his job easier. Still, he was nothing if not adaptable. As far as he saw it, he had two options. He could reinstate their rivalry somehow to keep them distracted. This gave him an extra activity. Or he could take them both head on. This gave him a bit more of a challenge. The former option was preferred for its simplicity, but he chose to continue with the latter.

It was more fun that way.

Still, perhaps there was some way to even the odds. His last two attempts at getting their attention had been through simple violence and an engineered pandemic. It was brutal genocide, yes, but it was sloppy and inelegant. This next time he would use something with a little bit more... grace. He could give them all a fighting chance. Any survivors would instantly capture the Doctor's attention, leaving Rassilon free to take them by surprise. Perfection.

Initially, he had been driven solely by revenge. When he first escaped the Time Lock, he was determined to make the Doctor pay for his actions. Now that he'd cooled down and taken time to think, Rassilon concluded that revenge was simply a bonus. There were larger things at stake, and obtaining absolute power was his focus. He was attempting to use revenge as a means to achieve absolute power. If he failed in the revenge portion of his plan it would not matter so much. Once he achieved absolute power, revenge would be something he could carry out at his leisure.

He would need to slow them down, however. If he could keep them occupied with cleaning up his messes then he would have the time to focus his efforts where it counted. The Doctor and the Master would continue to believe he was driven solely by revenge, but his attempts to draw them in would simply be a distraction. He needed them out of the way, and he knew just the way to do it.

* * *

><p>OK. Hi. Narrator here, interjecting for a moment. I'll be quick, I promise! I just wanted to confirm that you guys didn't understand that bit either. He's... insane, right? Because I found that hard to follow and I'm the one telling the damn story. Please tell me it's not just me who thinks it. I don't think he has a very clear grasp on his plan, or at least the bits regarding the Doctor and the Master. Well, whatever the case, the confrontation sure is going to be something to see. And I'm going to tell you all about it sure enough. But first, let's head back to the Shadow Proclamation and check our heroes' progress there...<p>

* * *

><p>It was quite the standoff. The Judoon were unlikely to stand down, the Architect was determined to keep galactic order, and it wasn't in the Doctor's nature to simply give up. He glanced around at his companions as he considered the escape that would result in the fewest casualties.<p>

The Master was uttering a steady stream of profanities and threats, enraged by his incapacitation and proposed incarceration. No, he would not be taken in easily, that much was clear. The Doctor needed to tread carefully though. An angry Master was a force to be reckoned with, but that force was unpredictable at best and counterproductive at worst.

The girl seemed to have cleared her head, eyes fixed on the Doctor. She was waiting for the cue to make their move. She wasn't meant to be there, and this entire mission was far too dangerous for human presence, but he had to admit that she was sliding into the role quite nicely.

Turning his attention back to the Architect, the Doctor sighed. "Listen, just let us all leave now and you can get right back to your work. I'm sure you've got a lot of it waiting for you. There doesn't need to be anymore madness here today. But if you insist on standing in our way I assure you we will get out, no matter what resistance you throw at us. These meetings don't always need to end like this you know."

"I am sorry, Doctor," the Architect said solemnly. "I'm afraid we cannot allow him to get away. Not this time."

"Then I'm afraid you've forced my hand," said the Doctor as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver. As he activated the device, the weapons the Judoon held began to overheat. They released their captives who proceeded to turn tail and run towards the TARDIS.

"Stop them!" shouted the Architect.

A fair amount of resistance stood between the trio and the TARDIS, but they refused to be stopped. They ran, turning down corners, ducking under arms and narrowly avoiding blasts from various stun guns. The Doctor disabled as many weapons as he could to make things easier, but wave after wave of Judoon arrived in an attempt to stop them.

"You know what would be wonderful right about now?" shouted the Master as they rounded a corner. "If you unlocked these shackles! It would sure make this escape attempt much smoother."

"Can't," replied the Doctor, taking out another stun gun. "I would have to change the settings. No time. I'll free you once we get back onto the TARDIS."

"You didn't think to unlock them before you started firing that thing willy-nilly at the space rhinos?" asked the Master.

"I had other things on my mind. You know, like getting us off this rock!"

Leah rolled her eyes and yelled "Both of you, shut up and duck!" The Judoon had got their hands on some rather large and painful-looking club type weapons and were now swinging them at the trio. They narrowly avoided having their heads taken off and kept running.

"How far?" panted Leah.

"Not very," replied the Doctor. "Just down this hall and... oh my"

They skidded to a halt as the only way to the TARDIS was blocked by a horde of Judoon, all pointing their stun guns at the group. "Halt!" one of them grunted. It appeared to be the leader of the group. "You are forbidden from leaving the station until further notice. Interrogation is required."

"You know, you're surprisingly well-spoken for a Judoon," said the Doctor. He was stalling as his mind raced for a way out of this mess. Vaguely he wondered why the escape always fell on him to take care of.

"Please stand down," ordered the Judoon. "You have two minutes to surrender before we open fire."

"Oh yeah, antagonize the big rhino holding the guns, that's a great idea," mutterd the Master.

"All their weapons are nonlethal. They won't kill, they'll just hurt a lot and be counterproductive to our stopping Rassilon," he said back.

"Wait, is there a setting on that thing that'll make their guns backfire on them?" Leah whispered.

"I think so..."

"OK, I have a plan," said Leah. "That won't hit them all at once, as evidenced by our mad dash here, but when I give the word, you're going to aim that at the one in the front on the far left. From there, just keep shooting. I think I can get us out of here."

The Doctor fiddled with the settings as the Master rolled his eyes. "So you have time to change the settings now, but you can't unlock me?"

"Oh shut up, Harry, do you wanna get out of here or not?" snapped Leah. "Ready with that thing?" she asked the Doctor. He nodded. "Alright, on my word." Grinning, she made eye contact with the Judoon platoon leader. Without warning she began to run fowrard to the disbelief of everyone in the room.

The girl was tiny in comparison to the alien and she looked much like a chipmunk charging a tank, but that was the plan. When she got close enough, Leah launched herself at the Judoon, her right shoulder connecting with its chest. When she made impact she yelled "Now!" and thought to herself just how badly her shoulder would be bruised tomorrow. The Doctor fired the sonic screwdriver and the guns began to backfire. Meanwhile Leah had seized the gun from the hands of the Judoon she had charged and began to fire. She knew that she stood no chance of toppling it, but she figured that she could stagger it enough to grab the weapon, if only because her tactic would take them by surprise.

"Run!" she cried. With the combined efforts of her newly acquired stun gun and the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, they managed to stun enough Judoon to clear a path to the TARDIS. Her plan had been so crazy it had to work. Eventually they reached the police box and piled in. The Judoon left standing opened fire on the TARDIS as it dematerialized, not seeming to realize how fruitless that action was.

As they were jostled about by the bumpy ride, the Master grumbled through gritted teeth. "Remind me, what exactly did we need from there again?"

"Information!" the Doctor shouted back.

"And we got what we needed then?"

"Yep."

"Excellent," the Master drawled. "Now how about unlocking me?"

"Right, there you are," said the Doctor as he shot the shackles with the sonic screwdriver.

As the TARDIS steadied, Leah took a seat, looking a little uneasy. "Information on what, exactly?"

"The planets that were destroyed," replied the Doctor. "Contrary to popular belief, as clever as I am I don't have encyclopaedic knowledge of every single planet at every single point in time. Do you have any idea how enormously _huge_ the universe actually is?"

"OK, I get that part, by why did we need to get information from a place with a bounty on my head?" asked the Master. "Doesn't the TARDIS have access to information like that."

"Well yes," said the Doctor, rubbing the back of his neck. "But our databases aren't quite as comprehensive. The Shadow Proclamation's got _everything_. It's their business to know all of the galaxy's dirty little secrets, I figured they'd have the best information. Besides, we were going there anyway to drop off the Ambassador."

"Great!" chirped Leah. "So how does that help us?"

The Doctor continued to fiddle with the TARDIS controls as he heaved a huge sigh. There were some adventures he relished showing off to his companions by answering their questions and looking all clever. This was not one of them, and it was beginning to remind him why he travelled alone for so long. "Every single detail is important, and the Shadow Proclamation's database contains every single detail. Assuming these attacks are not random, these details may be able to help us determine which planet may be targeted next, taking into account every factor and extrapolating trends based on billions of possibilities. We have access to the database now so that we can add information to the string of planets as we go."

"Extrapolation after only two worlds?" Leah asked disbelievingly.

"The TARDIS is a very clever girl," the Doctor retorted. "It's not foolproof by any means but it's certainly better than flying about blind. I'll take any advantage I can get. If we can get the jump on Rassilon we just might have some chance of success. I just need to figure out what I'm going to do with you..."

Before Leah had a chance to interject, the Master raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell us what happens if these attacks are just random?"

"Well then I'm afraid we're doomed," answered the Doctor matter-of-factly. "That also means we wasted our time at the Shadow Proclamation and risked everything by going there." He shrugged. "But you know Rassilon, it really could go either way."

The reality of what had just happened sunk in during a heavy moment of silence in the TARDIS. Leah, who had simply been enjoying the ride, was starting to have her doubts about this little adventure. She was exhausted, confused and more than a little scared, but up until now she had been having fun and feeding off the adrenaline coursing through her. She didn't want to go home just yet – because how could she after all of this? – but she decided that she definitely didn't want to be there when they finally faced off against Rascal-whosit.

"By the way," the Doctor piped up, finally breaking the silence, "brilliant escape back there. Barking mad of course, but it certainly got the job done."

The Master scoffed. "Hardly. What would you have done, pray tell, if the Judoon had stunned you before you got to him? That would leave us to escape while worrying about little incapacitated you, and you can bet that I wouldn't haul you to the TARDIS."

"Oh come now, Master, give her some credit," chided the Doctor. "The Judoon would have stunned the two of us long before we made it to the TARDIS."

Leah scowled. "I didn't see you coming up with any brilliant plans. It was simply the best I could think of on the spot."

"Well, however badly it could have gone, it didn't so let's count that as a win, shall we?" said the Doctor. Turning to Leah, he added "Now let's get you home before we – ah, spoke to soon." The TARDIS gave a sharp lurch that threw Leah forward. Somehow the two Time Lords remained standing. "Looks like we're off somewhere new after all. Oh, and we didn't get to test out our new data extrapolation system! Next time."

Their flight was the shortest yet, mostly because the TARDIS didn't try to fight the temporal pull exerted on her. The Doctor looked puzzled as he danced around the console yet again, but eventually just gave up and let the TARDIS do her thing. He had flown in her enough times that he trusted her judgement and allowed her to do whatever it was she needed to do to keep them safe. If that meant going with the flow then so be it.

They landed with the signature THUNK sound, and the three TARDIS occupants approached the door apprehensively. Leah decided that she would never get used to this, and braced herself for what they would find outside the doors. As they swung open, they revealed something that nobody had been expecting.

"What the... Well that's odd, this looks to be a perfectly normal planet," the Doctor mused. And indeed there appereared to be nothing out of the ordinary. The TARDIS had landed in a field a ways off from civilization, but in the distance shone the light from a thriving city. "Why would she bring us here? Has she gotten the jump on Rassilon for once? Excellent as that would be, we simply aren't prepared to face him yet, and certainly not on a populated planet."

The Doctor began to pace back and forth, muttering to himself. Meanwhile Leah exchanged an uncomfortable glance with the Master and perched herself on a boulder not too far off. Rubbing her eyes, she assessed the situation and tried to decide whether she believed what was happening, or if it was just some sort of vivid and elaborate dream. So far it felt pretty real, and the fatigue was starting to get to her. She got the feeling that this was far from standard fare for the Time Lord, and had they met under different circumstances she might have been on the adventure of her life. Instead, he seemed eager to get her home, and she was starting to agree with him.

Instead of dwelling on it however, she decided to survey the scene in front of her.

There really did appear to be nothing wrong with this world. The city in the distance looked to be running smoothly, though because it was night time it was rather quiet. To her left stood a range of cliffs with dark caves dotting the side. The field they sat in was brown and dusty, a clear contrast to the colour emanating from the city. It seemed to be very similar to Earth, perhaps somewhere like Nevada or the Alberta badlands, however there was something in the air that felt a little bit off and ever so alien.

"Yes!"cried the Doctor, snapping Leah out of her reverie. "I've figured it out. At least, I know which planet we're on, and I can draw a pretty reasonable conclusion about why we've been brought here."

Before he could explain it, a deep, gutteral growl rumbled from the largest of the caves on the cliffside.

"What the hell was that?" asked Leah.

"Ah yes, that would be the reason we're here," said the Doctor. "And if we value our lives, which I'm assuming we all do, I suggest we start running now!"


End file.
